


Ash in the sun

by JunkerFawkes



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Feels, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gore, Limb loss, M/M, Partners to Lovers, Partners to friends to lovers, Romance, Slow Burn, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:20:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 35,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7698118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JunkerFawkes/pseuds/JunkerFawkes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I caved and started a Roadrat fic.</p><p>Are you fucking ready for some pain?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories of days long gone.

It was never supposed to be like this.

The scorching sun was beaming down hot through dusty clouds of sweeping sands. Signs that a sandstorm was on it's way. There was no one here who would care. Piles of wood and bricks were still smouldering, remains of houses that were once there. Bodies littered the cracked concrete road, blood wetting the sand that had started to cover them partially. It'd been three days, there were no survivors left. He didn't know why he'd even bothered trying to find any.

The Australian Liberation Front. 

He hadn't even questioned how exactly they were going to 'liberate' Australia in the first place. All he thought of was getting those blasted omnics out of his home. 

All he wanted was to go home.

But now?

There was no home to return to. The explosion had devasted the whole area. There was nothing left. 

No omnics.

No humans.

No home.

No nothing. 

Wind whistled and dust blew into the filter of his gasmask when he stopped to listen, causing him to cough slightly. His asthma did not like these circumstances. He breathed out slowly, looking around. An old Australian flag blew by his feet, torn and burnt, the stars on it barely visible. He'd come in vain, everyone was dead or gone. He guessed he just had to convince himself that there was nothing he could have done. He should turn back and get out of here. Radiation levels were surely high so close to the core of the explosion. He looked back one more time, as if listening for something he knew wasn't going to be there. 

Until he heard soft sobbing. Sniffles, breaking through the sound of the wind that was swelling. 

“Anyone out there?” If someone had survived this carnage they would have to be severely wounded or on the verge of death. He looked around, but the sand blowing into the visors of his mask made it difficult. “Hello?!”

The sniffling had stopped, but he did hear a gasp. Small footsteps that seemed to be running towards him, but then stopped. A small, thin figure appeared from behind a pile of rubble. A child, clothes torn up, hands charred and knees scraped, soot sweeps on his face. He was probably no older than five.

The child inched back when he looked at him, scared eyes on the verge of tears were staring at his mask. It was the eyes, he thought. The kid possessed a pair of eyes you would not forget once you'd seen them. Fiery amber, big, round and expressive. 

“Hey there.” he tried to sound as friendly as possible, getting down on one knee to appear less threatening. He knew his 7'4 figure could be imposing, let alone to a small child.  
“Are you alone out here?”  
The kid still seemed apprehensive, hiding behind the rubble slightly, though he did nod.  
“What's your name?”

“Pa said never to trust a stranger!” The kid said, dignified, although it was obvious he wanted to trust the only other person probably still alive in this area. 

“Your pa sounds like a smart man.” he smiled. “Will it help if I take this off?” he gestured at his gasmask. The child seemed to think for a moment, then nodded decisively. 

The mask came off with a familiar clipping sound, the child watching intently as it was girded to a large leather belt. The young boy observed, eyes large, then obviously decided the huge man in front of him wasn't a threat, approaching him with small, but sure footed steps. 

“I'm Jamie.” he reached up as far as he could, hand in the air with spread fingers.  
“Mako.” they shook hands, even though Mako only extended a finger that Jamie grabbed and shook. He wasn't in the habit of introducing himself by his real name, but this kid had deserved it purely for surviving on his own for three days after the explosion. Add to that he was now standing in front of a man that could crush him under his bootheel and showed not even the slightest hint of fear, and Mako could honestly say this little runt had earned his respect. 

“You're very tall. I bet you can see loads from up there!” Jamie observed and smiled, a wide toothy grin. Mako merely nodded.  
“Where are your parents?” He knew the answer. They were dead. No good living parent would leave their child here. Jamie pouted, pointing to where he'd been before.  
“They were in the house when the big boom came.” he said. “I tried to find them, but I couldn't. My hands hurt too much.” Jamie held up his hands, that had signs of scorching on it. 

“And where were you when the big boom happened?” Mako asked, following Jamie as he ran ahead to the place he'd pointed at.  
“I was in the cellar. We were playing hide 'n seek, me and mom!” Jamie laughed when he jumped off a pile of rubble. He was obviously chuffed he'd found someone to talk to. 

The ruin of Jamie's home came into view quickly. White paint falling off wooden boards, covering what once was the porch. There was blood on the stairs, that were only partially standing. He shouldn't be so impacted by this, Mako told himself.

“Hey mister Mako, you're pretty big, can I sit on your shoulders so maybe I can see my mom and da in the distance?”  
“What?” Mako frowned, was this child suggesting what he thought he was?  
“Up!” Jamie demanded, reaching and standing on his toes. Mako had no choice but to give in to the little runts order, lifting him with care, holding him at face height for a moment. A bright beaming smile, messy blond hair and freckles all over his face. An innocent life, destroyed before it even truly began. It pained Mako to think that this kid was probably not going to last long out here on his own. He gasped, pulled out of his thoughts when he felt a tiny hand on his cheek.

“Where'd you get that scar?” Jamie asked, eyes curious.  
“In a fight.” Mako huffed, putting the kid on his shoulders.  
“Did you fight bad guys!?” Jamie asked excited. “I bet you got them real good!”  
“Do you see your folks?” Mako changed the subject. Jamie looked all the way around, but then sighed.

“No.” he mumbled, head sinking down on Mako's in dissapointment. Mako didn't know why but he left the kid where he was, going in the direction of the house Jamie had pointed out. The cellar might provide some much needed shelter. 

It was nearly blocked off, but there was a hole that might just have been big enough for Jamie to wiggle through. Mako did not bother with all that, shoving the rubble aside and clearing the entrance. It was a well built cellar, sturdy and uncracked by the power of the explosion, while it's core was really only ten miles away. Impressive. There was probably about a month worth of rations here, sealed, purified water, and he noticed Jamie had made a makeshift bed out of a cardboard box and a fire blanket. 

“It's good, yeah? I have to wait here until mom and da come back. They must be out there looking for me! Da always told me to stay in the same spot if we ever got separated!”  
“That's very smart.” Mako mumbled taking inventory of the things here. Jamie was silent for a moment, just eyeing his new, very large friend.

“Can I wait out the storm here?” Mako asked. Jamie happily nodded. He was probably just relieved he wasn't alone anymore.  
“Hey mister, why are you all the way out here? Were you trying to find someone, too?” Jamie asked.  
“Yeah, you could say that.” Mako confirmed. “Have you eaten anything in the past few days?”  
“Only some dried fruit. The ones in the bags! I can't get the cans open!” Jamie complained. Mako had figured as much. There was soup, some canned meat and corn. Jamie looked hungry enough. The least he could do for this little anklebiter was whip him up something edible. 

“Come on. I'm going to teach you something.” Mako said. 

Mako got some stones and rubble from outside, wood mostly, with some cloths. It was all dried to the core, so it burned easily when he held his lighter to it. He used the stones to make a firepit, keeping the fire contained before he got the washrack and put it over the fire to warm the soup and meat with it. 

“Where are you from, mister Mako?” Jamie asked, sitting close to the fire, eyes hardly tearing away from it. He'd been extatic when Mako got out his lighter, shouting ' Yay! Fire! Fire!' Jamie loved fire.  
“Up East.” Mako said.  
“Where's that?” Jamie wondered out loud.  
“You don't know?”  
“I've never even left town!” Jamie made it sound like an achievement rather than a shortcoming.  
“It's- where my home is. Was.” Mako corrected himself.  
“Oh. You lost your home too, huh?” Jamie looked sad when he got up and sat next to Mako, small head coming to rest on a big arm. “I'm sorry.”

Mako sighed deeply. He was not doing this. He couldn't. Not so soon after. Jamie was a sweet kid. Too sweet. But if this kept up, it was headed in a direction Mako was definitely not comfortable with.

“Here.” he gave Jamie a can of heated soup and a plastic spoon, watching him shovel down the food like there was no tomorrow. Mako dug in as well, thinking deeply. It was cruel irony that he ran into this kid now, it had to be. The memory was far too fresh. 

The sandstorm blew over and night fell, the cold setting in. Jamie was only wearing a t-shirt and shorts, and the fire blanket didn't do much for the unrelenting temperature change from hot to cold in a matter of an hour. Mako knew he'd probably never find the way back to his motorcycle from here in the dark, so he decided to spend the night. It was safe enough. Not that there was anyone out here to threaten them anyway. 

He slept on the floor, seeing Jamie bundle up in his cardboard box. They talked, though it was mostly Jamie asking intrusive questions and Mako responding to them with vague answers, but it seemed to satisfy the kid. Eventually, Mako nodded off to the sound of Jamie's chattering, heat of the fire comfortable enough to compensate for the cold concrete floor. 

He woke up not immediately realizing where he was. That was a thing that had happened a lot to him lately. Not having a set place to sleep would do that to you. He looked to the side and saw Jamie was not in his box. First thing he felt was worry. Not good. Kid gone. 

Then he noticed an ever so slight weight on his stomach. He glanced down, seeing Jamie sprawled out, fast asleep, on his belly. Poor sod had probably been cold. He had to stop himself from gently patting Jamie's back. This was getting too close. Another day and there'd be no turning back. Mako felt his chest tighten at the thought, breath hitching in his throat. Fear.

He lifted Jamie off him, careful, so he wouldn't wake him. Now might be his chance to get away. He got up, quietly, and gathered his stuff. He was halfway up the stairs when he heard Jamie wake up.

“Hey! Where ya goin'?!” he immediately asked, getting up and following Mako.  
“I'm going to where I left my motorcycle.” Mako sighed.  
“Oh, can I come?” Jamie asked, excited. Mako didn't answer, starting to trudge through the thick layer of sand that the sandstorm had left in it's wake. Jamie took that as a 'yes' following in Mako's footsteps. 

Jamie bounced and jumped and giggled and played around in the rubble while he followed Mako, having to run to keep up. He didn't seem to mind. 

Mako's motorcycle was old school, a chopper, and also partially covered in sand by last night's storm. Mako pushed it out of the sand, wiping it clean as well as he could. Jamie just watched.  
“Where are we going?” he eventually asked. Mako felt his heart sink at the question. Why did this have to happen? Why now?

“I'm going away.” he said, hoping to keep it short and simple. Of course he wasn't that lucky.

“Please take me with you.” Jamie said. “I know- mom and da, they're not coming back, are they?”  
Mako shook his head with a sigh. "No. They're not."  
“So I'll be all alone again when you leave. Please don't go.”  
“I can't stay, Jamie.” Mako mumbled. “I'm sorry.” he really was. He was just about to get on his motorcycle when he felt something latch on to his leg. 

“Please!” Jamie pleaded. “I don't wanna be alone!”

“Jamie-” Mako sighed deeply, getting down on one knee. He got out his lighter and gave it to Jamie. It was red and had a pig sticker on it. “-Keep this. Use it to make fire like I taught you. You can't stay here. People will come. Bad people. They will steal what you have. Avoid them. And trust no one.”  
“Mako-” Jamie stared at him with big, teary eyes.  
“I'm sorry.” Mako said it again, but it was inadequate for what he truly felt when he finally got on his trusty old bike and kicked it to life. 

“Mako?” Jamie's voice was tiny when he realized his new friend was really leaving.  
“Goodbye Jamie.” Mako mumbled, girding the mask onto his face, mostly to conceal his dampening eyes as he drove off, clenching his teeth at the final scream of his name as it echoed over the empty road.


	2. Rough boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fifteen years later...

That was fifteen years ago. 

Mako, or Roadhog, as he was more commonly known now, was in a backalley pub, drinking watered down beer, sitting on a bar crutch that could barely support his massive body. The jukebox must have been over eighty years old, but it was still playing, an old song Roadhog knew well.

'Rough Boys' it was called, but the artists name escaped him for a moment. It was a good ambient for the worn out interior of the pub, that had definitely seen better days. The leather on the seats was cracked and worn, the wood on the floor was dusty and creaked with any footstep set on it, the pool table's green felt had faded in places, the wood worn down where people leaned. There wasn't a table in the establishment that wasn't wobbly or had permanent markings of spilled drink on it and the dust gathered on the impressive vintage whisky collection behind the bar was almost as awe inspiring as the collection itself. 

The woman that worked the bar was probably about Roadhog's age, early 40's. He'd seen her before. He visited this bar whenever he was in the area. He liked it. It was a backwater village, largely inhabited by the people that had come here to scavenge. He dreaded to think someone would actually make their home here, but the woman seemed content. She desperately needed a haircut though. Her bleached hair showed a few inches of her root colour, dark brown. But a haircut was not something widely available in these parts. Hairdressers were a premium luxury.

“You want another drink darl'?” she asked, voice low and with that particular smoker's rasp in it. Roadhog nodded. She knew what he wanted, plopping it down for him in the blink of an eye. He'd always start with a beer, then move on to the whisky. He didn't particularly care that it was only 3 in the afternoon. This place, it made it near impossible to not drink. 

Roadhog breathed in the thick air, seeing dust particles dance in the sunlight that fell through the broken window. The dust was mostly filtered out by his mask, but this had to be a punishment on his lungs. Yet again. But they'd held up this long, so Roadhog figured he'd be all right. At least for a bit longer. 

He'd spent a good part of his day here. Not like him to sit somewhere for hours on end, but he had been thinking back to days long gone and honestly there was no better place to do that than a pub where time had seemingly not advanced since 1980. He wondered about that little kid he met fifteen years ago. And this was not the first time he had done that. 

For years now, he kept being reminded of Jamie on the moments he least expected it. Whenever he saw kids, which was rare nowadays, people didn't raise kids in an irradiated wasteland if they had a choice, the memories were strongest. But today's reflection had been triggered by a pig sticker, pasted on a car window. It'd been the same one as the one on the lighter he'd given to Jamie. 

He never told anyone of the meeting. Not that he had anyone to talk to. But the encounter had never truly been forgotten. He found himself wondering if the kid was still alive, if he'd survived against all the odds that had been placed against him. But lately, the thoughts were laden with an extra layer of guilt. 'I should have taken him along.' Was the thought that kept returning to Roadhog's mind. 

Then again, he would not have been a good example for the kid to grow up with. Since that day, Roadhog had abandoned the ALF, and gone solo. He was a merc for hire, did some jobs, some protection, some murder. That was no life for a kid. But he'd have stood more of chance, at least. Roadhog hadn't killed the little runt, but he might as well have. It'd have been more merciful than leaving him behind along the smouldering corpses of his parents. What chance did a five year old stand out there? He could have at least had the decency to drop him off at an orphanage somewhere out of reach of the omnium explosion area. 

He heard the pub door open with a little noise of the bell, but he didn't bother looking up to see who entered. It wouldn't be someone he knew. He took a swig of his whisky, holding up his mask to be able to drink. 

“What'll it be sweetheart?” the barwoman came up to the person who'd entered and took a seat three stools away from Roadhog. Roadhog could vaguely make out his presence when he put his glass back down. It was a young man, probably no older than twenty, tall and thin, with wild blonde hair. Roadhog didn't pay him any mind at first. He didn't look out of order, after all. He was dirty, soot stains on his face and pants. He didn't wear a shirt, but neither did Roadhog and several other people in the bar. No need when temperatures rose to tropical levels in the mid of day.

But the most noticeable thing about the man a few feet away was his prosthetic orange arm, strapped to his upper arm with tough leather, probably made out of an old belt. The hand on it was larger than the organic hand, but other than that, nothing out of the ordinary for someone who lived in a wasteland like this. Skull tattoo on his right shoulder, two smoking dynamite sticks underneath it. Roadhog noticed the man had taken care not to cover the tattoo with the leather straps that held his prosthetic in place. Maybe he'd just gotten it and wanted to show it off. 

“Milk tea. Don't suppose you have boba?” the man asked, thick eyebrows high on his forehead. Wide toothy grin showing when the barwoman frowned.  
“Have what now darl'?”  
“Never mind.”

Roadhog put down his glass and covered his face with his mask once again, glancing over at the young man. He was searching for something in the deep pockets of his oversized green camo knee shorts, eventually pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Roadhog scoffed. The dust in this place was bad enough on his lungs as it was. He coughed to get the man's attention, seeing how a lighter was taken out of the other pocket. 

Red with a sticker of a pig. 

Roadhog's heart skipped a beat. It was worn and barely visible, but it was the same sticker that had been on the lighter he gave Jamie. 

“Yeah, mate?” the slender blonde frowned, having lighted his cigarette, but still holding the lighter in his prosthetic hand, fingers closed protectively around it. Roadhog was already halfway to convincing himself that this could not be the same person he had abandoned out there fifteen years ago, until their eyes met. 

Big, round and expressive, flaming amber. 

The kind of eyes you'd never forget once you'd seen them. 

“Oi.” the owner of said eyes was mildly irritated that Roadhog had stolen his attention for seemingly no other purpose than to annoy him. “Ya gotta problem?”

“Ashtma.” Roadhog hadn't meant for it to come out as sheepishly, but it got the point across. The young man frowned in surprise, eyeing his cigarette shortly before his look travelled back to the big man on the stool a few feet away.  
“Sorry.” it was mumbled while the blonde butted out his cigarette in the ashtray on the bar.  
“No worries.” Roadhog assured him before turning back to his drink. 

It couldn't be him. But the similarities were too much to be incidental. Same hair colour, same toothy grin, same sharp features and then there was the lighter. He supposed someone could have stolen it, but why hold on to that old thing for so long if it didn't mean something? He looked over to the bar stool where the young man had been, wanting to check again to make sure, but he was gone. He'd walked over to a table where a few people were playing blackjack. 

Good. Some time for Roadhog to observe him. He took a different seat at the bar so he could easily see the table they were sat at, noticing that the lanky blonde was surprisingly good at Blackjack, or at least got lucky a few times. He also noticed the others who were playing were quickly losing their patience with him. No wonder. They were all cheating, and he was beating them by playing fairly. 

One of them quit, but the other three were together and were getting more agitated with every win the blonde pocketed. One of them went to get them drinks, but unlucky for him, he stood next to Roadhog when he did, so Roadhog noticed the knife he pulled from his belt, turning around when the woman behind the bar wasn't looking and coming back up behind the group at the Blackjack table, knife firmly in hand. 

“Now now.” Roadhog's voice boomed through the entire place, making all the heads turn in his direction.  
“Where you going with that?” he turned around and watched the man that had the knife raised in the air aimlessly. The man immediately looked nervous, caught in the act, colour leaving his face when Roadhog got up and approached him. A deadly silence took hold of the bar, apart from the barwoman rolling here eyes and mumbling “Here we go again.”

Roadhog was well known around these parts, his reputation of being ruthless and cruel preceeding him. The man in front of him seemed no exception to this, staring up at him. Roadhog wasn't in the slightest bit worried that the man would try and stab him, he'd know better than that.  
“Can't take a loss?” he asked, nudging his head at the other two that had been with him. They wiggled uneasily in their chairs. 

“He's cheating!” one of them exclaimed, pointing at the blonde, who was turned on his seat to look at Roadhog. Roadhog only shook his head.  
“No he's not.”  
“Don't argue with him for crying out loud.” the man with the knife hissed.  
“How about you give me that knife?” Roadhog suggested. “And maybe no one will get hurt.”  
“Maybe.” 

Roadhog saw the man glance at the knife and get the idea, but before he could execute it, he'd grabbed the hand that was holding the knife and squeezed down, pulling a blood curdling scream from the man in question. A loud snap and a sickening grinding travelled through the pub. The knife fell to the floor, and the lanky blonde had the good sense to pick it up before anyone else could. The man that was dangling in Roadhog's grip begged, sobbed, pleaded to be let go and his mates had gotten up to free him, hands reaching for their weapons. 

Roadhog was fully prepared to fight them both off, but it looked like he didn't have to. His lanky protégé came to his aid very effectively, tripping one of them before lashing out at the other, metal fist landing in the middle of his face, blood spurting everywhere. Roadhog dropped his crying victim, exchanging a look with the thin man in front of him. 

“Thanks.”  
“You're welcome.” 

“You fucking shithead I'll-” the one that had been tripped got up and flew at the blonde furiously. Roadhog shoved the smaller man away, out of danger, while he simultaneoulsy grabbed the knife from him. It all went so quick the remaining attacker didn't even realize what was happening until both his hands were being pinned down on the table, knife slap bang in the middle of his palms. He didn't have time to scream before Roadhog kicked him unconscious. 

There was always a rush of adrenaline when he fought like this, but it was different this time. Usually it was just purely for the kick of it, to see his victims whimper and squirm, but this was driven by something else. A need, a want to protect.

The man with the broken nose and the man with the crushed arm carried their unconscious friend out of the pub, leaving the money they'd gambled with on the table. The blonde eagerly collected his just due, even though some of it was covered in blood.  
“That was ace, mate! Hey, can I like, buy you a drink or something?” he asked, stuffing the money in his pockets. Roadhog shrugged.

“Why not?”

And that was that. Just like that, they were talking, in a backalley pub in a backwater town on a table for two. Roadhog would have called it ridiculous if he hadn't been there himself. But the more time passed, the more he was certain that this was the kid he'd found so long ago. He'd managed. He survived. 

“Ah, I completely forgot to introduce myself! I'm Jamison Fawkes, also known as Junkrat 'round these parts, or Jamie, to my friends! Not that I have any.” he added that last bit mumbling, but perked right back up, expectantly staring at Roadhog. It really was him. Relief and guilt mixed in Roadhog's gut. At least it seemed like Jamie did not remember him. But then why had held on to that lighter?

“Name's Roadhog.” he said with a slight nod.  
“Pleased ta meet ya!” Jamie grinned. “That was a tight spot you saved me from.”  
“Didn't do so badly yourself.” Roadhog shrugged. Junkrat practically beamed at that half assed compliment, soft giggle leaving his throat. 

“Say, I could use someone to watch my back. I got meself into a spot of trouble, you see and now there's a price on me head.” Junkrat was whispering now, wanting to make sure no one but Roadhog heard him.  
“And how did that come about?” Roadhog asked, interest piqued.  
“I found something valuable. Very valuable. They've been chasing me since!”  
“Who's 'they'?” Roadhog frowned.  
“Bounty hunters and all that lot. They've been on my tail for a few months now.” Junkrat shrugged.  
“Nothing major so far, but I figure there'll be more soon. Besides, I ain't stoppin' now. I know there's more out there, waiting to be taken!”  
“You're planning on stealing money, I take it.” Roadhog summarized.  
“Lots of it! From the suits!” Junkrat nodded with enthusiasm.  
“Suits?”  
“The nitwits living in their glass towers thinking they're better than everyone else!” Junkrat clarified with a snarl. 

“Don't like them, I take it?” Roadhog chuckled.  
“Not one bit. They don't care 'bout what happens to the people involved with their high and migthy lives and the victims of their decisions. I wanna stick it to 'em and make a pretty buck in the process. You in?” Junkrat asked, eyes expectantly staring at the visors of Roadhog's mask.  
“How much?” Roadhog asked. He was pretty sure he was going to say yes regardless, but it didn't hurt to ask. Show him that he wasn't going to come freely. 

“Well there's two of us so 50/50 mate!” Junkrat said it as if it were clear as daylight. “What do you say, eh? We'll be unstoppable!”  
“I can't. Not yet. Have a job needs doing first.” Roadhog admitted. 50/50 seemed fair enough, since the little rat could obviously take care of himself.  
“Bloodshot gang needs to be taken care of. Getting paid an awful lot to take out their boss. Extra if I take out all the other ones too.”  
“I'll help ya. It'll be good practice. You know, team building!” Junkrat grinned. “So, partners?” he extended his metal hand, toothy smile widespread across his sharp face. 

“Partners.” Roadhog nodded, shaking the hand that was reached to him. 

He was going to regret this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tough boys  
> Running the streets  
> Come a little closer  
> Rough toys  
> Under the sheets  
> Nobody knows him  
> Rough boys  
> Don't walk away  
> I very nearly missed you  
> Tough boys  
> Come over here  
> I wanna bite and kiss you
> 
> I wanna see what I can find  
> Tough kids  
> Take a bottle of wine  
> When your deal is broken  
> Ten quid  
> He's so easy to find  
> Not a word is spoken  
> Rough boys  
> Don't walk away  
> I'm still pretty blissed here  
> Tough boy  
> I'm gonna carry you home  
> You got pretty pissed dear
> 
> Gonna get inside you  
> Gonna get inside your bitter mind
> 
> Rough boys  
> Don't walk away  
> I wanna buy you leather  
> Make noise  
> Try and talk me away  
> We can't be seen together  
> Tough kids  
> What can I do?  
> I'm so pale and weedy  
> Rough fits  
> In my Hush Puppy shoes  
> But I'm still pleadin'
> 
> Tough boys  
> Running the streets  
> Come a little closer  
> Rough toys  
> Under the sheets  
> Nobody knows him  
> Rough boys  
> Don't walk away  
> I very nearly missed you  
> Tough boys  
> Come over here  
> I wanna bite and kiss you
> 
> I wanna see what I can find!
> 
> \- Rough boys by Pete Townshend
> 
> Also!
> 
> It will likely take a while until the next update, planning on a big episode of my Univeristy AU!


	3. Milk tea with boba

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roadhog and Junkrat tackle the bloodshots together

They'd been driving for most of the day, the air in Roadhog's van hot and dry, despite the windows being open all the way. He'd exchanged his dear motorcycle for a van a few years back for the sake of practicality, having built a small home in the back, with a sofa/bed and a place to store his food and drink. Junkrat had been very impressed with it, immediately investigating every little corner and gushing over the fact that he didn't have to sleep in the open air anymore. 

He was sitting next to Roadhog now, elbow on the door and hand under his chin, looking bored while he watched the landscape go by. It wasn't much to look at, Roadhog had to admit. Sandy dunes got old real quick. Still, the energetic youngster had been silent so far, only glancing at him occasionally. He'd said a few things too, generic chatter about how he'd never been in a car before. Not a luxury he could afford when all he had was fifteen bucks. Roadhog recognized a glimmer of apprehension in the young man's eyes. Perhaps he was intimidated a little by his new partner and was that what caused his silence. 

“So what's with those bombs of yours?” Roadhog eventually broke the silence, the music on the radio less than satisfying anyway. Junkrat's face lit up, starting to explain how the grenade launcher he'd built actually worked, Roadhog listening intently. He was impressed with the little rat's ingenuity, building a grenade launcher and putting together bombs from scratch wasn't easy. He wondered if he was self taught or if someone else had shown him the ropes. Whichever it was, Junkrat knew his weapons inside out, bolt for bolt, cog by cog. 

“Impressive.” Roadhog nodded, when Junkrat was done talking. “Think you could take a look at my old shotgun? Maybe come up with some improvements?”  
“Sure thing, mate!” Junkrat giggled excitedly, crawling out of his seat and into the back, taking Roadhog's gun. That kept him busy for the most part of the ride, the sound of him tinkering away back there a strangely peaceful ambient while more sand dunes kept appearing on the horizon. 

“So why you after those Bloodshits? I mean, besides the money. That bit's obvious.” Junkrat asked.  
“Just for money.” Roadhog said. “No beef with them.”  
“No beef with the Bloodshits? Roight.” Junkrat scoffed.  
“Sounds like you do.”  
“Hell yeah I do. One of them nearly got me while I was sleeping. Only thing kept me from being napped was the fact they kicked a rock and woke me up.” Junkrat mumbled.  
“You a Junker then?”  
“Damned right. Lived in and about Junkertown me whole life!” Junkrat confirmed. Not surprising, considering Roadhog had found him only 10 miles away from the core of the explosion. The core had become somewhat of a city in it's own right after that. Survivors rebuilt their homes, even though the land was poisoned by radiation. 

The Bloodshot gang was an offshoot of former Junkers, more cruel and unforgiving. They took people by force, made them choose between joining or dying. Roadhog had crossed them before on many an occasion. He wouldn't be sad to wipe them out. 

“So why were you all the way out here?” Roadhog asked.  
“None of your business.” Junkrat retorted rather fiercely. Roadhog just shrugged. Perhaps he'd ask him again later, but it was obviously a sore subject so he didn't pry. 

“What, that's it?” Junkrat frowned. “No interrogation?”  
“No.” Roadhog replied, eyes focused on the road.  
“You know, you're all right.” Junkrat smiled. “So if you don't mind me askin'-”  
“-I do mind. I'm not going to talk about where I'm from. It doesn't matter.”  
“Ah.” Junkrat said, frowning. Roadhog had sensed the question coming miles away.  
“But I'd be interested in hearing about your arm.” Roadhog wasn't lying there. It'd been the first question he'd wanted to ask, but he figured that was a little rude, even out here.  
“What, this?” Junkrat held up his prosthetic arm, twisting the joint. “Nothin' much to tell. Fucked up while I was still experimenting with my mine. Set off the trigger mechanism. I was lucky it was just my arm that I lost. Built this thing not long after.”

“By yourself?” Roadhog asked.  
“Yeah. Found some old overwatch blueprints in an abandoned base of theirs way out back. Had detailed descriptions for prosthetics that connected to the nerve system through pressure pads. Guess they needed those for any soldier that got injured in the line of duty. Quite high end stuff, but I found a workable base lying around there. Took me maybe near a month to get it right.”  
“But it seems to be working well.”  
“Works better than me real one, I'll tell ya!” Junkrat grinned. “But that's one personal question answered so now I get one. What's with the mask?” he didn't wait for Roadhog's go ahead, hanging over the headrest of the driver's seat.

“Nothing.”  
“'S not nothing! You've got filters in there, and no gasmask I ever saw had a pig nose. You made that?” Junkrat asked.  
“Yeah.”  
“You sure are a tight lipped son of a bitch, Roadhog.” Junkrat sighed, slumping down onto the floor of the van. “You ever talk more than one sentence in a row?”  
“Sure I do.” Roadhog grinned but the mask concealed his bemusement when he heard Junkrat groan in frustration. Annoying his new partner was a lot more amusing than he'd anticipated. Perhaps it had been too long since he'd not been alone. 

“We're here.” he said, after a few more minutes of driving in silence.  
“Well that only took two centuries.” Junkrat mumbled, hopping out of the van as Roadhog stopped it somewhere out of sight. “You got like a map of this place?”  
“No.”  
“Well are we scouting it to see the numbers?” Junkrat frowned.  
“No.”  
“We're improvising?”  
“Yes.” Roadhog nodded, getting his gun from the back of the van. “What did you do to it?”  
“Oh, I modified it slightly so you can just shove random crap in there instead of expensive ammuntion.” Junkrat shrugged. “Will save ya a bit on the bills.”  
“I can shoot anything from it?”  
“Yeah, mate.” Junkrat nodded. “Figured we couldn't afford to be picky.”  
“True enough.” Roadhog agreed. “You ready?”  
“I suppose. There's like, no plan at all?”  
“Nope.”  
“Where have you been all my life?” Junkrat joked, big grin across his face as they entered Bloodshot grounds. 

Roadhog had done this sort of thing by himself close to maybe a hundred times. Weed out some gang, take all they owned and collect the due. Another gang would pop up within less than a month, but that wasn't his problem. As long as he got paid, he'd do the job. He just hoped Junkrat wouldn't be too much of a liability. He was only a youngster after all. And youngsters made mistakes. 

Turned out the little runt was everything but a liability. He may have been bit chaotic, but he was hyperfocused on their situation and knew exactly what he could and couldn't do. His bombs were destructive and loud, and it made their enemies panic, making them easy for Roadhog to pick off.  
There was one moment where Junkrat was nearly jumped by one of them, but Roadhog's hook took care of that threat, hauling him in and blasting him in the face with scrap he'd loaded into his gun. He liked that new feature. He liked his new partner. Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad thing after all. 

After scouring the place for anything useful, they got back to the van and decided to spend the night before going on the long drive back to collect the due, since night was falling and the van, however much of a luxury it was, had no headlights. Broken. Glass taken by scavengers, probably.  
“I have some food in the back. You had a decent meal recently?”  
“Clarify recently?” Junkrat asked, wiping some old blood from his face. It wasn't his. He hadn't even sustained a scratch during their assault on the Bloodshots, which was more than could be said for Roadhog. He'd gotten a little cocky and now he had a gash on his shoulder to prove it. He'd have to remember to disinfect it before he went to sleep.  
“The last week.” Roadhog mumbled.  
“Nah. Ate some due date mushrooms last week though.” Junkrat said, as if it redeemed the situation.  
“Well you're gonna love this.” Roadhog said, cringing at the sound of what Junkrat had said. "Air tight sealed potato slices and marinated chicken bits." Roadhog wasn't big on meat, but he liked to eat in occasionally. He got out the gas cooker and put on the pan to let it get hot. 

“You sure? I'm not the queen or anythin'.” Junkrat grinned.  
“You need to eat. You're thin as a rake.”  
“Yeah well, the wastelands not exactly full of edible shit.” Junkrat mumbled in protest. “I was lucky if I could get a decent meal once a week.”  
“I know. It's rough out there.” Roadhog agreed. “But you've managed for fifteen years. All by yourself?”  
“Yeah. Call it crazy but no one wanted to be friends with me.” Junkrat smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in his voice. “Nobody trusted me and I didn't trust nobody. That tends to get in the way of friendships.”

Roadhog nodded silently, dropping the potato slices in the pan.  
“Someone once told me that. Don't trust anyone.” Junkrat said, uncharacteristically quiet. “Served me well, that lesson.”  
“Who?”  
“A man. Big guy. Tall, bit like you. But he didn't wear a mask, and he had black hair, not white. And he didn't have a tattoo.” Junkrat pointed at the big tattoo that covered Roadhog's entire stomach.  
“So actually he wasn't all that much like you. Just the posture.” Junkrat concluded with a grin.  
“He gave me this lighter too. Taught me to make fire. Honestly owe him for that. Saved me so many times.”

“Why not just get a new lighter? Filling it up is a pain.” Roadhog tried to sound harsh, lecture him on how impractical this kind of thing was. Emotional attachment.  
“Yeah, but I like to think if I ever do run into him again I can show him I kept it. Tell him how much it did for me. What his lessons meant.” Junkrat smiled fondly. Roadhog was silent, dumbfounded.  
Junkrat quietly played with the lighter, running it through his metal fingers with a lightly clinking noise. He looked contemplative, eyes focused on the lighter. 

“What would you tell him?” Roadhog couldn't resist asking.  
“I don't know.” Junkrat shrugged. “He left me along the ruins after he'd taken advantage of the supplies in our cellar.”  
“That's a bit harsh. You were only a kid.” Roadhog scoffed.  
“Yeah. But- I don't know.” Junkrat sighed. “It's complicated.”  
“I see.” Roadhog was practically burning to ask him other things, pry more from him. Did he remember everything? No, probably not everything, or he would have remembered that he had in fact been wearing a mask when they first met. But Junkrat remembered more than Roadhog ever thought he could. Perhaps it had made more of an impact than he had anticipated.  
Guilt. Again. He should have taken him along. 

“Here.” Roadhog handed him a plastic plate with potato slices on it, throwing the chicken strips in the pan afterwards. Junkrat fiddled with the plastic cutlery, metal hand clumsy as he tried to use the fork. He was obviously struggling, but didn't ask for help. Roadhog watched him, quietly frowning.

“Something the matter?” he eventually asked.  
“No.” Junkrat stubbornly replied. “This thing's just impractical.” he threw the fork and put his mouth to the edge of the plate, shoveling in the slices like that. Roadhog kept staring, blinking slowly. Junkrat flushed, looking back with an agitated frown.  
“Wot?” he hissed.  
“You've never learned to eat with a fork?”  
“What of it?” Junkrat huffed, crossing his arms and looking away. “Not like I had anything to eat with a fancy fork anyhow!”  
“You hold it like this.” Roadhog showed him, mirroring it so Junkrat could copy.  
“Like this?” Junkrat fiddled a bit, but eventually got it right, managing to eat somewhat properly with it. 

“Something like that, yes.” Roadhog nodded. It never occurred to him that things that were nothing more than ordinary for him might be completely unknown to Junkrat. Well, he would just have to teach him those things as they came on their path.  
“So, you liking this, so far?” Junkrat asked. “Us as partners in crime, I mean.”  
“Could be worse.” Roadhog shrugged.  
“So you stickin around?” Junkrat asked, to make sure.  
“Yeah I reckon. Sticking it to the high and mighty sounds like it's up my alley.” Roadhog nodded.  
Junkrat giggled with glee, bobbing his head excitedly for the rest of the night, actually humming to himself while he was making new grenades. Was he drawing smilies on them? Ridiculous – ly cute.  
How was he so cheerful after a life that must have been full of shit? 

“I'm going to sleep.” Roadhog announced, getting up from the campfire and going to lie down on the sofa in the back of his van. It was a comfortable old thing, covered with blankets to avoid too much stains on it, the pillow needed a change of hose but Roadhog just turned it around, using the fresh side for his head. He'd wash it if they passed a laundromat somewhere.  
“Okay mate, goodnight.” Junkrat mumbled. He wasn't done fiddling with his bombs yet, the metal clanging in the background slowly lulling Roadhog to sleep. 

Junkrat was at it again when Roadhog woke up. Had he even slept at all? Roadhog stretched thoroughly before emerging from the van, seeing the heap of grenades Junkrat had produced. Had to have been at it all night then.

“Mornin' mate!” Junkrat smiled, big black circles under his eyes.  
“Morning.” Roadhog mumbled. “Come on, let's go get breakfast.”  
“Get breakfast? Where?” Junkrat got up and carried the grenades into the van, dropping them in an empty box. He hopped into the passenger's seat from the back, looking at Roadhog curiously.  
“Place I know.” Roadhog shrugged. “Not far from here.”

The place they stopped at was another one of those joints that hadn't moved on since the early 1980's, the retro signs still on the front, colour completely faded and beaten by the sands and wind. Inside was hardly better. The white and red tiled floor needed sweeping badly, the cheap wooden tables and chairs battered and used. The vending machine had been broken for as long as Roadhog had known about this place. The electrical boards behind the counter were flickering occasionally while Junkrat stared up at them in awe. He continously nudged Roadhog about things he saw, things he couldn't believe were just available to anyone.  


“Roadie look, they've got milk tea and boba!” Junkrat was most enthusiastic about that, he kept repeating it and practically buzzed with excitement. Roadhog smiled beneath the mask, mostly at the nickname. It was a good nickname. He liked it.

The only person behind the bar was a young guy, wearing a red cap and matching apron. He looked slightly intimidated by the two people in front of him.  
“What'll it be?” he asked, regardless.  
“Two English Breakfasts, a milk tea with boba and a normal black tea.” Roadhog mumbled.  
“Of course, eat here or to go?”  
Roadhog took out his scrap gun, pointing it at the boy in the red cap.

“To go. And hurry it up.”

“Y-yes sir!” the employee made off the prepare the order as quickly as he could.  
“Roadie why did you-”  
“Don't feel like waiting.” Roadhog shrugged. 

Their order was done so quick they were in and out of there within 10 minutes, back in the van to resume their trip and collect their just due from Roadhog's benefactor.  
Junkrat was quiet while he dug into his breakfast like it'd be the last meal he'd have, keeping his precious milk tea till last. He looked like a kid, slurping it down through the straw so happily, folded up in the passengers seat, chin resting on his knees. He finished the tea and started chewing on the little black balls that were called boba, though Roadhog had no idea what they were made of. He held up his hand and Junkrat dropped a few boba's in them, understanding the hint. 

Chewy, sticky and sweet. Perfect for Junkrat. Not too bad for Roadhog either, but nothing special. Junkrat seemed to adore it, though. He probably only ever tasted it once or twice a year. Roadhog glanced at his new partner when he'd finished chewing, seeing Junkrat had passed out, slumped against the car door, satisfied smile on his face. He must have been dead tired if he hadn't slept all night, so Roadhog left him, turning down the music and driving on in silence. 

This was shaping up to be quite the adventure.


	4. Baked eggs and trust issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made, what will be their next move?

So bloody hot. 

There seemed to be only one type of weather around these parts. Hot, scorching, hellish temperatures coupled with dry winds and the occasional sandstorm. amidst that merciless heat, they'd found an abandoned gas station, quite literally in the middle of nowhere, where Roadhog could park his van in the shade of the roof. 

No one had lived here since the explosion, dust had claimed the shelves that hadn't fallen off through the rot of time. The counter must once have been white, but was now yellow, bordering on brown. A broken painting hung on the cracked wall, a vague blue-ish colour on it. The pumps were in even worse shape, having been outside and endured the whymsical weather, there was only one left standing, and the gas out of that had long since evaporated. The cash register was still closed however, a few old dollars and a pack of cigarettes inside. Junkrat took both. Smoking and making grenades had to be a bad combination, right? 

After collecting their just due for wiping out the Bloodshot infestation they'd driven up here, needing a quiet place to plan their next move. This place certainly filled that need. Once there, Junkrat laid out his plan to raid just about every major landmark across the world, starting in Sidney. Closest to home after all. 

But the little rat had definitely thought this whole thing through. He'd drawn the route he wanted to travel on an old map, going from capitol to capitol, there were museums on the list, the statue of liberty and many other famous places. It was all clear as day, except for one thing.

“Why?”

Roadhog asked it with a sublte hint of sarcasm, indicating just how strange he thought the plan was. It was. It was madness. Absolute madness.  
“Because that's where we hit the suits the hardest! That's how they make their money!” Junkrat said, as if it were the simplest thing. “You hit them where it hurts!”  
“What about the civilians?”  
“Well we ain't gonna hurt them, obviously! 'S long as they don't get in the way!” Junkrat shrugged.  
“There will be people getting in the way. What if you kill a child with one of your bombs?” Roadhog frowned. “Your grenades are effective but indiscriminate. You need to be careful.”  
“Jeez, all right, I will!” Junkrat snapped, shooting up. “I ain't an amateur!” 

Short fuse. To be expected he supposed. 

“All these places are going to have plenty of people in and around them.” Roadhog calmly said. “It'd be best if we hit them during the night. No one around to hurt except some security. Easier too.”  
“Roight.” Junkrat nodded, after a slight hesitation. He sat back down, seemingly calm again. Though he still seemed high strung. “That didn't occur to me, for some reason.” he admitted. “Good idea.”  
“Of course it is. I thought of it.” Roadhog said it with a hint of amusement, seeing his partner starting to grin.  
“Fuck you, ya old bugger.” Junkrat laughed. Roadhog could see the tension dissapear, shoulders lowering, muscles relaxing. So jokes were the way to go. Good to know.

“So, there really is no other reason you're wanting to do this?” Roadhog asked.  
“Nah. I figured I couldn't stay here me whole life, just trying to get by. So I thought why not venture out? Spread me wings, ya know? And make an assload of cash in the progress, of course!” Junkrat chuckled. He stopped giggling abruptly, instead turning his head and looking at Roadhog with a thoughtful frown. 

“Roadie.” he said.  
“Jamison.” Roadhog replied. Using his full name seemed appropiate at this moment. Apparently Junkrat agreed, because he smiled, however subtly it was.  
“Why are you in on this?” Junkrat asked. “Like, nothing's keeping you from leaving.”  
“No. But it seems like a lucrative business.” Roadhog shrugged. “50/50 of say, a million dollars is still a fuckton of money.”

That, for whatever reason, triggered a giggling fit with Junkrat.  
“What?” Roadhog frowned.  
More high pitched giggling.  
“What's so funny?” Roadhog asked, getting mildly annoyed.  
“You said fuck.” Junkrat hiccupped.  
“Oh, for fuck's sake.” Roadhog groaned, hiding his face in his hand. Junkrat snorted at the repeat of the word, more silly giggling emerging from his throat. What a child.

Roadhog had to actually work to not laugh. It was terrible, childish, unfunny and horrid but it hurt to try and stop grinning. It was so bad it was good, and Junkrat's laugh was very infectious.  
“I'm going to see if there's something useful in the garage out back.” he said, once he'd gotten the urge to laugh under control. “It's getting on in hours, we should stay here for the night and leave for Sidney in the morning.”  
“Yeah, sounds good.” Junkrat agreed. “I'm gonna take a nap.”  
“It's five in the afternoon.”  
“So? You're awake so I'm safe, and when you go to sleep I'll be awake so you're safe. Works both ways.” Junkrat huffed. Roadhog frowned, a little surprised. Of course. It made sense. Junkrat had never been safe while sleeping. There was always some threat lurking in the cover of the wastelands, especially if you slept outdoors with no shelter. 

“You are safe.” Roadhog confirmed. Junkrat looked tired, so he didn't argue that he should work on his erratic sleeping schedule. A nap would be good for him. Junkrat nodded with a soft smile, crawling into the back of the van before Roadhog turned the corner and entered the garage on the other side of the petrol station. 

It'd only been two days, but already Roadhog knew that Junkrat was far less straight forward than he seemed. He made himself look silly, probably as a defense mechanism. Making the enemy underestimate you was the first step to victory. And victory was important in the wasteland. If you didn't win, you didn't survive.

But it was slowly becoming clear to Roadhog that Junkrat was everything but what he pretended to be. He was a fighter, a survivor. Battered, but not broken. Far from it, in fact. He wanted to fight, stick it to the rich profiting off the poor. There was fire in him. But there was something he wasn't telling him. Trust was not given freely, not out here. And Roadhog had been holding back information as well, so he couldn't fault Junkrat for not handing his faith to him on a silver platter. He had to admire the little rat's tenacity, but then again, Jamie had always had his respect, from the moment they met up until now. Roadhog doubted it would change any time soon. And with time, perhaps Jamie would come to trust him, too. 

It was getting cold by the time Roadhog got back to the van, shivering slightly. Temperature changes had been more rapid since the radiation had started, the nights freezing and the days hot, even more so than before. He entered the back of the van, seeing Junkrat sleep as still as a mouse, breathing quiet. Another consequence from the life in a wasteland, he supposed. Noisy, wild sleepers would be picked off earlier. He took care not to be too loud, but Junkrat was a light sleeper, the sound of the doors closing causing him to flinch, jerking to sit straight.  
“It's okay, it's just me.” Roadhog hushed when he saw Junkrat's hand move towards his weapon. 

Junkrat stopped his reaching motion, eyes half opened and thick with sleep. It was obvious he wanted to sleep more. Needed to sleep more, probably.  
“Roadie, you reckon we're safe out here?” he asked, voice raw.  
“Yes. I don't believe anyone would come and find us here. Doubt anyone even still knows about this place. Lost to time, probably.” Roadhog said, shrugging. Junkrat thought a moment, then pulled a quilt over his body, curling right back up, snuggling into the pillows. 

Trust. Or a beginning of it.

Roadhog couldn't help the smile that came to his lips. He let himself flop backwards and had just enough sense to take the other quilt, covering himself as well as he could before closing his eyes and dropping off, the only sound in the van being his and Junkrat's steady breathing. 

When he woke it wasn't because he heard something or because of the sun that beamed through the windows, it was because there was something very warm on his stomach. He glanced down, seeing Junkrat lying draped from one side of his belly to the other side, very happy and very soundly asleep. Roadhog couldn't bring himself to shove him off. He probably should. He was allowing Junkrat to get far too close by letting this happen. That was the whole reason he left him fifteen years ago. Too close, too soon. He hadn't let anyone close since. Perhaps it had been too long. 

Junkrat stirred, jawning lazily while he stretched across Roadhog's stomach, fingers kneading the blanket, not unlike a cat. He gasped softly when he noticed where he was, but Roadhog pretended to be asleep, resulting in a relieved sigh. Junkrat carefully climbed off and went to lie on his old spot, dozing a little, probably waiting for Roadhog to wake up so he'd do all the preparing for the trip ahead. Sneaky little rat. But Roadhog saw him thrum his fingers impatiently. If he stayed down long enough, he reckoned Junkrat would be done waiting for him to wake up soon enough. 

And indeed, it wasn't even three minutes later when Junkrat huffed and threw the quilt off of him, getting up and leaving Roadhog in the van on his own. 

Roadhog allowed himself a few lazy minutes, listening to Junkrat scurrying around outside, trying to get what he was doing from the noises he heard. There were some footsteps, fading away slowly then coming back along with a heavy, rolling sound. What had he found? It had the distinct sound of a tire flopping down when he dropped it on the floor. What was he gonna do with a tire?  
Unable to temper his curiosity, Roadhog got up and joined Junkrat next to the van, sitting in the shade of the roof. It wasn't scorching hot yet at least. Junkrat acknowledged his presence with a mumbled “Hey.” then returned to scurrying, getting some of his explosives and gathering tape as well as screws. 

“What are you doing?” Roadhog asked, starting to make some kind of breakfast.  
“Thought of something.” Junkrat muttered.  
“What?” Roadhog asked, taking out the gas cooker to cook some eggs. They'd been in the cooler since they'd left to take out those bloodshots, but things got bad quickly in this weather.  
“Well, it's like a tire. But with explosives.” Junkrat stated. It really couldn't be any simpler.  
“Sounds genius.” Roadhog mumbled.  
“Yeah.” Junkrat laughed. “Just wait till ya see it mate, it'll be good!”  
“I'm waiting with bated breath.” Roadhog frowned with sarcasm. “How do you like your eggs?”  
“There's more than one way to eat an egg?” Junkrat frowned.  
“Well how have you been eating them?”  
“Just like that mate, crack open the shell and drink 'em.” Junkrat said it like it was universal knowledge. “Why? That not the right way?”  
“Not exactly. You never got sick?” Roadhog asked, shivering lightly in disgust.  
“Yeah I did, few times actually.” Junkrat admitted. “But didn't have much choice.”  
“Well I'll show you how to eat them properly.” Roadhog decided. 

He didn't think he'd ever seen someone enjoy simple baked eggs this much. Sharp teeth chewed right through them, at a pace that seemed impossible to Roadhog. He merely frowned at the rat's terrible table manners, letting it slip for now. He'd teach him that later. 

“So, we off to Sidney?” Roadhog asked, when they'd both finished breakfast. Junkrat nodded. 

“Yeah, we should get going. Got some suits to rob!”


	5. Hoodies and Opera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat has many questions and Roadie nearly has a heart attack

Sidney was a big city, busy and vibrant, the people living there were from all walks of life. The explosion hadn't affected the city much, and most people here had never even seen the western wasteland. Like many a capital, there were hardly any quiet hours. The city center never closed, most stores open 24/7. But there was a more concerning difference. They stood out here. They were filthy, dusty, unkempt and rough compared to the slick, modern city with it's neon lights and white bullet trains that ran with merely a sound. 

Junkrat had never seen so many people in one place that weren't trying to kill eachother. He pressed his face to the glass of the van's window while they drove through the city streets, eyes full of wonder. He asked Roadhog a million questions at light speed, so Roadhog didn't get to answer any of them before Junkrat had already moved on to something else that had captured his attention. Roadhog smiled at the child-like enthusiasm, but was still a little confused as to who Junkrat actually was. He seemed to switch attitude according to their situation.

Most of the time he was a young man, still a kid really, that laughed about silly jokes and had so much to learn, looking at the world with an innocence that was rarely found in the wasteland. But when they were taking out those Blodshots, he'd seen a different side of him. A side that had been forced to grow up too quickly, a disturbingly weathered person for someone his age. A side that knew how to survive, how to thrive in a world that wasn't kind to young people. A side that was entirely Roadhog's fault. 

He should have just taken him with him.

“Roadie, what's a subway?” the question pulled Roadhog from his thoughts.  
“It's underground trains.” Roadhog mumbled.  
“But why if you have trains above ground?” Junkrat asked, confused.   
“Subways make more frequent stops and don't go beyond the borders of a city. They're good to get to a tourist attraction or the centre of town if you don't have a car.”  
“Can we ride it?” Junkrat asked, eagerly.   
“Sure. But we need to get clothes first. We will stand out too much like this. We need to go incognito, buy some normal clothes.” Roadhog explained.

Junkrat giggled, probably thought of something. Roadhog decided to indulge him. Just this once.  
“What?”  
“In-hog-nito.”  
Roadhog groaned, deep sigh protruding his masks filters, rolling his eyes. It only delighted Junkrat, who grinned from ear to ear, obviously proud of his terrible pun. 

Roadhog parked the van in a parking garage not far from the opera house, they'd need it as their escape vehicle after all. They headed into the city centre to find a suitable clothing store, somewhere where they'd sell Roadhog's size. They found one quicker than Roadhog had expected. No matter how 'advanced' society was, if you didn't fit the norm, you were still an outsider. It's why Roadhog usually kept away from big cities and crowded places. He stood out. People judged him before they'd even taken a second look. He couldn't be bothered to prove them wrong. He'd much rather spend his time with someone who accepted him the way he was, who wouldn't judge him for what he looked like. 

Someone like Junkrat.

“Roadie, check this out!” Junkrat had pulled a hoodie over his thin frame with indomitable enthusiasm, a big smiley on the front. “You like it? It's just like my grenades!”  
“Yeah, it's nice.” Roadhog nodded. “Suits you.”  
“This one would be perfect for you!” Junkrat was distracted by something he saw in the clothing rack, pulling out a big black hoodie with a pig print. “Right?”  
“Yep, bring it up to the counter.” Roadhog nodded. 

They emerged from the store with far more clothes than they would need. Junkrat was so enthusiastic about finally being able to buy clothes and not have to rob them off corpses, he practically beamed at everything. They went back to the van to change, leaving the rest of their clothes in there. 

They waited for midnight in the van, it was best if no one saw them anywhere else besides the clothing shop. Junkrat was nervous, Roadhog could tell. He was chewing the nails on his remaining hand, wiggling his feet and his eyes kept flashing in all directions. 

“Will you stop that?” Roadhog eventually mumbled, getting annoyed.  
“Sorry. I'm just nervous. I know we've gone over the plan a million times but I'm still scared something will go wrong.” Junkrat admitted, trying to keep his twitchyness in check.   
“Well we've still got two hours before we have to go. Why not play a game of cards?” Roadhog suggested. Junkrat perked up at that.   
“Sure! What do you want to play? I know Blackjack, Poker, Four Aces, Mooch, Three kings, two ladies -”  
“I have never even heard of those last few. Explain.” Roadhog smiled behind his mask, seeing his attempt to distract Junkrat succeed gloriously. 

Two hours and a little bit later Roadhog had learned three new card games, going over their rules while they drove towards the opera house, weapons hidden in duffle bags. Duffle bags that would also serve as their loot carriers for anything valuable they might uncover. 

Entering the Opera house grounds was easy enough. Junkrat climbed over the wired fence with cat-like agility, sneaking to the main guard hub, the building occupied by only two guards at this late hour. And apparently they did not pose any trouble, because barely five minutes later, the gate opened and Roadhog could walk right in, without challenge. He saw the security cameras were shut down, seeing Junkrat wave from the guard's room with a proud grin. Roadhog waved back, chuckling. Junkrat might have appeared child-like and clumsy, but it was obvious he was very aware of what he was doing and more than capable of doing it as well. 

They sneaked into the building with the keys from the guard, disabling the alarm with the code they'd learned from that same guard. With no opposition, this was almost too easy. It was almost like they weren't expecting to be targeted. It gave them the element of surprise for now, but Roadhog realized that it wouldn't last long once the word got out. Maybe one hit on a monument wouldn't raise suspicion, but after the second, people would become wary. They would see the pattern. It'd only get more difficult from there on. 

“Let's check to see if there's really no one around.” Junkrat mumbled when they got to the catacombs of the opera house. “Cameras didn't show nobody, but y'never know. I'll go right.”  
Junkrat was gone very quickly, obviously very focused on their goal. Roadhog went left, expecting to meet Junkrat in the middle somewhere, but not finding him. At all. It was like he'd upped and vanished. An unsettling feeling took hold of Roadhog. Had Junkrat made off? Left him here? To what end? Was he some kind of government spy hired to track down and kill Roadhog? No, he couldn't be. He was Jamie, the kid he'd found fifteen years ago among the ruins of an old house. 

There weren't many people Roadhog trusted. In fact there was only one that came close to the point of being trusted and that person was now finally coming towards him, sliding in from a corridor. He'd been far too quick to mistrust. Roadhog lectured himself when he waved at Junkrat, who grinned enthusiastically. 

“All clear. I've planted me explosives on the spots we said we would. Let's get clear and leave this city behind.” he giggled happily, the two of them making off and out of the gate, driving towards the airport. 

“Too bad we can't watch the carnage unfold, but I suppose this'll have to do. You ready?” Junkrat glanced at Roadhog but didn't wait for a reply, pressing the button of his detonator with a twitch of his hand. Very faintly, they heard the explosions go off below ground as they pulled away, van's engine roaring as the building started to collapse. Junkrat watched till the last possible moment, giggling gleefully when he sat back down. A huge rumble shook the town and a dust cloud followed them until it swallowed the van, but they were out of it in seconds as it died down. 

“That was almost too easy.” Roadhog mumbled. “You find anything worth taking?”  
“Not really.” Junkrat shrugged. “Some paintings that look expensive. Can probably sell em off for a decent sum. Oh, and some gold statues.”  
“I'd say thats worth taking all right.” Roadhog frowned. He only gathered some plaques and a small bit of cash from the register. He had to step up his game. 

“Oh, Roadie I can't wait to see it all over the news! We're gonna be in every paper and no one will know it was us!” Junkrat grinned excitedly.   
“They will eventually. Are you prepared for that?” Roadhog said, frowning.   
“I was born prepared, mate!” Junkrat boasted.   
“That why you forgot your grenades?” Roadhog gestured over his shoulder at the grenades that were still untouched in the box where Junkrat had left them since he'd made them.   
“Well-” Junkrat stalled, huffing offendedly. “-I didn't think I'd need them.”  
“And you didn't this time, but I took a few for you just in case.” Roadhog took a handful of grenades from his pocket, Junkrat looking up in surprise, a hint of approval in his expression too.   
“Thanks, mate. Good to know you got my back.”  
“That's what partners do.” Roadhog shrugged.   
“Yeah. I'm starting to think fate's finally smiling kindly on me here.” Junkrat's smile was different from his usual after he said that. More meaningful, amber eyes slightly different too, fond. Warm. Sweet.

Roadhog felt a little flutter in his chest. 

Tiny, almost not there, but it was enough to make him gasp.

It caught him by surprise, and he'd nearly grasped at his chest, thinking it might have been a heart attack of some sort. Junkrat didn't notice, thankfully. Roadhog took a deep breath. That little flutter, he thought he was past that. 

He never thought he could feel like that again. 

He wouldn't allow himself to. 

He couldn't.


	6. Not ten, but nine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wave goodbye to your hoodies, Roadhog.

Junkrat had never seen an airport, or so many stores and people packed in a confined space. There was so much information coming at him he couldn't even start to ask all the questions that came to mind. Pristine white hallways, silver information boards with blue letters announcing when the next flight was coming or leaving, and stores behind infallably cleaned glass walls. Everything looked shiney and expensive, Junkrat's eyes sparkling at so much new stuff. Expensive liquor stores, souvenir shops but mostly at the perfume store. Roadhog lost him as soon as they got into the sight of one, Junkrat insisting he had to try each and every single one. It was free, why wouldn't he make use of it? 

Roadhog's eyes teared up even through his mask when he smelled Junkrat after his visit to the perfume store. Junkrat was chuffed, convinced he smelled like a god, but Roadhog sincerely doubted if they were even going to get on the flight like this. Though Junkrat did buy one particular aftershave called 'Wastelander'. Roadhog couldn't discern which one of the many smells it was.

Thankfully they had to wait two hours to board their plane, and by that time most of the smells had faded somewhat. Good thing the plane was practically empty. It gave them some time to talk, without having to worry about people looking strangely at them. Junkrat was a little nervous, constantly asking if the plane would hold their weight, how could something this big even fly, let alone carry something? 

His nerves soon faded, the little rodent calming down and just talking to Roadhog about many, many things he still wondered about, new things, things he'd never known before. Roadhog explained them all, patient and understanding. Junkrat eventually nodded off, smiling peacefully. Looking at him like this, it was hard to believe he'd been largely responsible for blowing up a building that brought in billions of dollars a year. 

It was on the news, just like Junkrat had predicted. The screen on the chair in front of Roadhog had practically nothing else on it. It was breaking news. In Australia and in the whole world. Terrorists were blamed, because there was no security camera footage of them entering, they'd made sure of that. No one had seen them come or go. It was the perfect crime. Roadhog felt oddly accomplished. He'd never wanted to be one of the big-hitters, but realizing a twenty year old boy and his bodyguard had pulled off the crime of the century, it made him proud. Two ragtag nobodies that shook the world with their deeds. Perhaps he hadn't thought big enough up until now. 

Next on their list was a place called Hanamura, Japan. Roadhog had never been to Japan, nor did he speak any Japanese, but he recognized the name Hanamura. It was a village owned by the Shimadas, a modern day mafia family. Not people you wanted to mess with. Their arcade made the family a fortune, and Junkrat figured it was about time to stop that cash flow. 

They'd booked a luxurious hotel in a nearby town, it wasn't like they were planning on paying for real anyway. They used fake accounts for everything, making them harder to track down for authorities. The room was a large, round space, green curtains in front of the glass walls that offered a view over the beautiful valley they were in. Soft beige carpet under their feet, a large two bed in the middle of the room covered with green silk sheets, television opposite it. There were some black wooden cabinets in the corner with a sink and some kitchen appliances, the room and the bathroom separated by a shoji door. 

Their room was a paradise to Junkrat, sattelite tv, a fridge, proper bedding, an espresso machine? Water that came out of the faucet and didn't poison you? The first thing he did was take off his clothes in a frenzy and take a very long shower, the amount of dirt and soot coming off him clogging the drain. It must have been ages since he'd washed properly. Water in the outback was in short supply, and Junkrat having hardly any money to his name, he wouldn't have been able to rent hotel rooms, no matter how rickety they were. Water in the wasteland was usually irradiated, posing a danger to your health if you got it on your skin, worse if you drank it. Roadhog waited, sitting on the bed while he watched T.V. 

“I'm done. 'S all yours.” 

Junkrat emerged from the bathroom an hour later with a large towel wrapped around his waist, smirking happily. He seemed a completely different person, clean like this. No soot on his face or hands, wet blonde hair perking back up into their natural wave slowly. He looked younger, more like the kid Roadhog remembered. But at the same time it was now more obvious that Jamie had grown up. He'd become a man of his own, still young and reckless, but he was no longer a helpless little kid, though there were still things he had to learn. He came and sat next to Roadhog, bare chest thin but well trained, muscular. You'd have to be physically strong to survive in an environment like Junkertown. Scars were clear all over, previously covered by the dust and grime. Roadhog wondered where they'd all come from and he was of a mind to ask but he was distracted by a smell that intruded through his masks filters. Junkrat smelled nice, slightly of alcohol, probably the new aftershave. A musky, foresty smell.

“Like the new scent.” Roadhog mumbled before getting up and taking the bathroom.  
“Thanks hoggy!” Junkrat smiled, getting dressed and leaning back on the bed, browsing channels on the television. It wasn't half bad, this. He'd stolen one of Roadhog's new hoodies, the one with a biker logo on it, completely dissapearing in it. His new, red shorts dissapeared under it as well, making it look like he had no pants on. It was nice, comfy. Soft. He played with the hoodie's strings, pulling them shut all the way, closing the hood around his face, then re-opening the hood, only to do it all over again. 

What a contrast to his life just a week ago. When he knew no one, didn't want to know anyone. But it was good, this. He had a good feeling about this, about Roadhog. He seemed trustworthy, though Junkrat still had some reservations about him. He hadn't exactly told him much to go by, he knew practically next to nothing about the guy. Maybe with time.

He watched the news, that was still about their hit on the Opera House. The whole site was covered in dust, there was nothing left of the Opera House itself.  
“Roadie, it's all over the news! Told ya we'd be famous!”  
“I think the word you're looking for is infamous.” Roadhog replied, voice echoing slightly because of the bathroom walls.  
“Whatever!” Junkrat giggled. “Still means everybody will know who we are!  
“That is true.” Roadhog confirmed. “Junkrat-” Roadhog stuck his head out of the bathroom door.  
“Yeah mate?” Junkrat looked up. Roadhog was quiet for a moment, looking Junkrat over. 

Junkrat had no business looking that adorable in Roadhog's hoodie, which just dwarfed him. He'd just pulled the hood shut, opening it back up to look at Roadhog attentively. 

“You lost your tongue?” Junkrat frowned.  
“No, I was going to ask if you'd mind ordering some food. I'm good with whatever.” Roadhog said, tearing his eyes off of Junkrat. “Except peas.”  
“Oh, sure!” Junkrat nodded. “Anything is good? Like I can order whatever I like?”  
“As long as it's not ten milk teas with boba.” Roadhog joked, closing the door again. 

There were nine.

Nine milk teas with bobas. Eight of them in the fridge, one Junkrat was happily drinking, sitting cross legged on the bed. To his credit, he did get them food as well. He got a rump steak with fries and mushrooms for Roadhog, and a large coke to go with it. It was a treat after coming from the wasteland. Roadhog hadn't eaten this well in months, chewing with vigour. Junkrat was munching on a plate of lambsrack with baked potatoes and a salad, but he'd discarded that, stating that 'He weren't no bloody rabbit.'

“So Roadie, you a biker?” Junkrat gestured at the hoodie he was wearing.  
“Used to be. Before.” Roadhog nodded.  
“Before what?” Junkrat asked, careful.  
“Before the omnic crisis. Tried to keep up with it afterwards but it wasn't the same.” Roadhog sighed. “All the friends I knew then, they either quit the gang or were lost in action.”  
Junkrat seemed at a bit of a loss then. “I shouldn't have brought that up.” he mumbled.  
“It's okay. It was a long time ago.” Roadhog shrugged.  
“Time doesn't heal everything. I don't remember all that much from before the explosion, but I remember they gave back the land we fought for to the omnics. I was too young to understand what it meant then, I was just pissed we had to move because of them. I didn't want to leave my friends behind.” Junkrat smiled reminiscently.  
“But people fought back, right?” Roadhog asked, knowing full well that they did. He'd been ALF himself. Perhaps knowing that he was one of the few who'd resisted would give Junkrat some sense of calm. 

“Yeah they did. And a great job they did too!” Junkrat growled with sarcasm. “Blew up our whole town and everything I knew along with it!” his eyes flared, angry. “They're the ones who set off that bomb and fucked over the whole western part of Australia with it. Killed thousands of innocent people, murdered my family!” Junkrat was fuming and Roadhog was speechless.  
“I mean omnics are shite, but that whole resistance movement, the Australian Liberation Front? I guess they liberated a lot of people with their fucking explosion!"  
“Jamie-” the name passed Roadhog's lips before he could stop himself.  


“Don't call me that!” Junkrat hissed, jumping off the bed in a rage. “You ain't done nothing to earn it!” 

“Calm down.” Roadhog said the words firmly, not wanting to break into a fight with Junkrat. 

"Don't fucking tell me to be calm! You know nothing about me!"

“I know you're hurt. We all lost things in the omnic crisis.” 

Junkrat's anger seemed to grind to a halt there, Junkrat just looking at Roadhog with a mix of confusion and fury.

“You lost loved ones too?” he asked, voice still hard, like he didn't understand. 

“Yes.” Roadhog nodded calmly. 

“But-” Junkrat made a frustrated noise, metal fingers clasping around his organic ones. “-Then why aren't you angry?!” he asked, confused. 

“Maybe I am.” 

“Roadie, I-” 

Junkrat sat back down on the bed, stammering, looking torn between emotions. He was obviously upset, but didn't know how to express it. He'd probably never had to talk about how he felt about everything that had happened to him, and it was not an easy subject no matter how you looked at it. 

“I see.” he mumbled eventually, retreating from his aggressive tone. 

Roadhog sighed, looking back to his plate, that had a half finished steak on it. He wasn't hungry anymore. 

“You want it? I'm all done eating.” Roadhog offered it to Junkrat, who nodded and took the plate from him, though uncharactaristically slow. He didn't look at Roadhog either, seeming ashamed. His whole demeanor closed up, he pulled up his knees and turned away from Roadhog. 

Junkrat obviously didn't want to talk, so Roadhog just got the remote and leaned back on the bed, browsing channels, thoughts racing. Junkrat hated the ALF. He blamed them for killing his family and rightfully so. And there was blood on Roadhog's hands, too. Even if Roadhog had moved on since then. Even if he'd never agreed to the methods they used. Even if he didn't detonate that bomb. He'd still been a member of ALF when the explosion happened. He'd supported their resistance effort against the omnics. 

He could never tell Junkrat. He'd just hate him for it. And he wouldn't be wrong in doing so.

“Roadie-” Junkrat mumbled, mouth half full of steak.  
“Mh?”  
“I saw an ad in town, for that stuff you put on your nails? The shiny stuff from a tiny bottle.”  
“Nail polish.” Roadhog said, nodding.  
“Yeah that. I got curious and I took a bottle. But-” Junkrat sighed. “-My metal arm is too clumsy to do it well. It'd just end up everywhere. Can you help me?” 

He finally sought eye contact again and Roadhog could tell he was attempting to apologize, trying to move past the argument. The conciliatory look in his eyes said what Junkrat himself couldn't. 

“All right.” Roadhog nodded, Junkrat smiling with relief before reaching down to the bedside and pulling out said bottle of black nail polish from a plastic bag. Junkrat scooted closer, watching how Roadhog opened the bottle and smelling the chemical whiff of air that emerged from it.  
“Smells kinda synthetic.” he mumbled, seeing how Roadhog wiped the brush on the sides of the bottle to prevent clots. Roadhog nodded.

“It is.” he held up his hand for Junkrat to put his left hand into, but there was a hesitation from Junkrat's side. Roadhog frowned, but then realized why. They hadn't touched beyond Junkrat climbing on top of Roadhog's stomach that night in the van and that was hardly official, since Junkrat still believed Roadhog hadn't noticed that. It was like he had to take a step over a threshold now, handhovering in the air aimlessly, a few inches from Roadhog's waiting fingers.

“I don't bite, you know.” Roadhog said it with a smile in his voice, Junkrat smiling along with him, relaxing a little when he put his hand into Roadhog's palm. 

Roadhog hadn't noticed how small Junkrat's hands were compared to his own until now. Slender fingers emerged from the hoodie's sleeve, resting in Roadhog's grip, warm and a little worn, callus on the parts of his hands that were burned one too many times. Compared to Roadhog's fingers, Junkrat's looked like twigs, easy to break if Roadhog cared to. He didn't, but he did let out a dignified scoff when he saw the state of Junkrat's nails. A total mess, cloves on the sides from his habit of biting them. 

“Not like this.” Roadhog shook his head, releasing Jamie's hand to rummage through his own stuff. He pulled out a small nail file and a clipper. He'd made a point of keeping his appearance as spotless as possible even in the wasteland. He liked to feel groomed and neat, so he kept a few of those supplies with him at all times. He offered his palm to Junkrat again, lanky hand coming to rest in it much easier now. 

Junkrat was a little unnerved by the feeling of the file against his nails, but eventually settled, relaxing and leaning on Roadhog a little more. The whole thing had a strange sort of intimacy about it, Junkrat's eyes transfixed on their hands and just allowing Roadhog to fuss over him. The quiet in the room was only interrupted by the occasional gust of wind blowing through the opened part of the glass wall, making the curtains flutter. 

“I'm sorry about your family.” 

Roadhog said it quietly, hoping this wouldn't reignite Junkrat's anger. Junkrat didn't respond, casting a downwards glance with a hint of sadness. Roadhog remained silent after that, wondering if he should have said that. He nearly flinched when Junkrat sank his head onto his shoulder. 

“Not your fault, mate.” 

But it was.

Roadhog just nodded, concentrating on Junkrat's nails to avoid his gentle gaze, but he couldn't stop the sigh that passed his lips. Junkrat nodded in agreement, repressing a yawn.  
“Kinda nice, this.” he mumbled, seeming lazy. “Never had much luxury in the wasteland. I feel kind of posh.”  
“You are. The poshest.” Roadhog was glad for the opportunity of the joke, Junkrat's grin lifting the mood.

“You're done. What do you think?” Roadhog said, moving back to glance at Junkrat.  
“I like it. Makes me feel like I'm on top of things or something.” Junkrat nodded, admiring his new nails. “You want me to do yours?”  
“Should be good on the left, but if you want to do the right, that'd be nice.” Roadhog nodded.  
“I'll do me best. Like I said my metal arm's a little clumsy.” Junkrat shrugged.  
“I'm sure it'll be fine.” Roadhog nodded, giving Junkrat his right hand. 

“Your hands are huge, mate.” Junkrat mumbled, getting started on the thumb.  
“They're biker hands.” Roadhog joked, remembering the joke from days long past. Junkrat snorted, making him spill some nail polish on the sheets.  
“Whoops. Well, whatever.” Junkrat frowned sarcastically, in turn causing Roadhog to laugh. 

The last of the tension ebbed away when Roadhog's chuckle did as well, Junkrat focusing on doing as good a job on Roadhog's nails as he could. 

“Do you remember anything else from before?” Roadhog asked after a while, watching how Junkrat's tongue tensely ran across his lips while he focused.  
“No, except for that guy who came and raided the pantry that one night.” Junkrat mumbled. “Probably for the best. I've heard horrid things.”  
“It was horrible.” Roadhog nodded in agreement.  
“You must have seen some shit.” Junkrat sighed.  
“Yeah. Lots of it.”  
“Of what?” Junkrat frowned.  
“Shit.” 

They shared a sarcastic look before they both burst into laughter. 

“Still as tight lipped as ever. Shoulda known.” Junkrat giggled.  
“Yep.” Roadhog confirmed with a chuckle.  
“Well, I won't make ya tell. Oh, for fuck's sake-” Junkrat hissed when he spilled more nail polish.  
“Bed's gonna be black by the time you're done.” Roadhog frowned.  
“Everyone's a critic these days.” Junkrat rolled his eyes. “It's done anyway.”  
“Thanks.” Roadhog chuckled again at Junkrat's offended face. The nail polish was all over but Roadhog didn't care. He liked it.

“Should get some sleep. Will set to explore the arcade and city tomorrow. Make a plan and get a map somewhere.”  
“Yeah. Sounds good. And, Hog?” Junkrat breathed out while he laid back on the bed, arms crossed behind his head.  
“Yes, Junkrat?” Roadhog mumbled, getting up to brush his teeth. 

“I'm never giving you back this hoodie.”


	7. Pachimari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go tits up at the Hanamura arcade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: It gets gorey. Blood, death and broken bones!

The Hanamura arcade was a big games hall, full of vending machines, video games and game tables,. Every game you could imagine was here, arcade machines ranging in ago from well before the turn of the century to present day. The carpet of this place was a horrible dark blue with psychedelically coloured shapes and patterns, but that seemed to be a general arcade problem rather than a specific thing for this arcade only. The rest of the games hall was obviously modern but done to a retro standard, wood and bright colours clashing on the walls. 

Roadhog had lost Junkrat a while ago and hadn't bothered to look for him, knowing he was probably playing every conceivable game he could in the time they had. He ordered a drink at the bar while he looked around, taking in the environment and noting where the valuables would be. The cash register was right in front of him, behind the bar, but there wasn't a lot of money in there, from what he could see. He stayed seated on his bar crutch, drinking his soda slowly, eventually seeing the barman go through a door behind the bar, locked with an electronic lock, opened with a card that he had on him. Only things worthy of locking away were kept behind a door like that. Roadhog took note, but he didn't need the card to break in. He'd just kick down the door. He'd yet to meet a door that was strong enough to resist the might of his full weight excersized through his bootheel. 

“Roadie! Check this out!” Junkrat practically danced up to Roadhog, holding something that looked like an onion with a cute cartoon face. “Some dude with green hair helped me win it!”  
“What is it?” Roadhog frowned. He kind of liked it, even though it was slightly strange.  
“It's a pachimari! Ain't it cute?” Junkrat grinned as he sat down next to Roadhog, plopping the plushy down in front of them. “Anything worth noting?”  
“Stuff's probably hidden behind that door.” Roadhog nudged in the direction of said door.   
“Roight. There's nothing much in the hall, mostly just the cash in the machines but taking it out will cost too much time. Let's hope what's behind that door is good.” Junkrat mumbled. 

They didn't even pay attention to the group of people that entered the arcade through the sliding doors one floor down. Why would they? It was getting late, the arcade was bound to get busier as the night set in. 

Roadhog only noticed when it was too late. 

“Well, well. Lookie here boys, I think we've just been blessed!”

Junkrat gasped, twisting around on his crutch. It was the kind of gasp that sounded like he knew they were in trouble. That this wasn't just some guy talking to them. 

“The illusive Junkrat!” the guy was a wastelander, no doubt about it. Camo pants and black shirt, shoulderpiece made out of an old war helmet, face covered by a scarf, a hat and sunglasses.   
“How did you find me?” Junkrat hissed.   
“You know this clown?” Roadhog frowned.   
“Clown is right, mate.” Junkrat mumbled.   
“Oh, you found someone to follow you around? What did you tell him? I can't imagine it was the truth. No one would follow you if they knew.” the guy sneered.   
“And what you did was so much better?” Junkrat retorted. Crap, they hadn't brought weapons. This was just supposed to be a scouting trip. 

“Listen up punk.” Roadhog got off his seat and stood up, making sure all of his 7'4 was as straight up as he could manage before he walked over to the man talking to them and looked down.   
“You leave my boss alone. Unless you're feeling lucky, of course.” Roadhog smirked, cracking his knuckles. The man stepped back, face a lot paler than before.   
“Y-you don't want to get between a bounty hunter and his prey, mate.” he tried to sound confident, but in the face of Roadhog's might, his bravery dwindled faster than water through a drain. Roadhog was just about to step forward when he was interrupted.

“Might want to rethink that.”

Roadhog glanced over his shoulder at the icy voice that had spoken to him, coming from a man that was holding a gun to Junkrat's temple. He must have snuck around when Roadhog wasn't looking. Junkrat wiggled uneasily, eyes darting between Roadhog and the gun that was on his head. Roadhog stepped out of his aggressive stance, seeing how Junkrat shook his head. Was he telling him not to back down? 

“That's right. Lower those hands and let's work out a deal. You give us the little rat, and you get to walk out of here safe and sound. How's that sound?”

Roadhog turned his back to the group to be able to face the man keeping Junkrat hostage, sighing deeply when he established eye contact with the man.

“Fuck you.”

Roadhog knew he only had a few seconds to act. His hand reached out to the gun, slapping it from the man's grip just as he pulled the trigger, Junkrat yelping as the shot penetrated his shoulder. He went down, but at least he was still alive. Roadhog didn't hesitate, his hand grabbing the man in front of him and turning around, using him as a shield for the initial rain of bullets that was fired his way. 

Blood spattered onto his face when his meat shield was riddled with bullets, one or two got through, but they were just scrapes on the side, he'd been shot too often to pay attention to that. He threw the corpse at one half of the group, bowling them over and charging into the other and wreaking havoc, fists lashing out and more blood shooting out of noses, eyes and mouths while he beat them into the ground. Skulls cracked when he slammed them into walls, bones snapped like twigs when he kicked their feet from under them. One of them dropped a shotgun. Five shells left. Enough. 

Roadhog pulled the trigger indiscriminately, bullet hail flying everywhere while he took down the rest of the group. When he was done, he made a point of inhaling the smoke coming from the shotgun's barrel, breathing in deep before he turned to the last surviving member, the man that had initially spoken to them. 

“You run off home now, and tell anyone else that thinks it's a good idea to come after my boss what happened to you. If I see you again-” Roadhog lifted one of the nearby corpses by the neck, snapping it without even so much as a blink while he maintained eye contact with the whimpering man on the floor. 

“-Understood?”

The man nodded frantically, weeping and yelping as he got up and ran away faster than his legs could carry him. Roadhog wanted to turn around, but the cold feeling of metal against his neck stopped him. 

“You think you can just slaughter my mates and live, you fat fucking pig!?” 

Roadhog felt the hairs in his neck stand on end when he heard a gun's pin being cocked. He'd missed one. Careless.

It'd be his last mistake. 

_BANG_

Warm fluid erupted and covered Roadhog's shoulders and back in a splatter.

It smelled of metal. 

Blood. 

Not what he had expected. He should be dead. But instead the pressure of the gun to his neck fell away and the body behind him slumped to the floor while the blood soaked through the fabric of his hoodie. 

Roadhog turned around and saw Junkrat leaned against the bar, holding a smoking gun in two shaking hands, eyes teary, blood running down from the shotwound. He dropped the gun to cringe, shaky breath leaving his throat while his hand grasped his shoulder. 

Roadhog was at him in the blink of an eye, supporting Junkrat as he crawled to his feet. The shotwound didn't look too serious, but it was obvious it hurt. Junkrat shook while he leaned on Roadhog, breathing unsteady. 

“Hold on. I'll get you to a hospital.” Roadhog mumbled, but Junkrat shook his head.   
“Let's check what's behind the door.” he insisted. “Might as well now we're here.”  
“Cops won't be long.”   
“We won't be either.” Junkrat shook his head. Roadhog nodded, breaking down the door with one well placed kick of his foot. 

They found a safe with this months profits, taking them for themselves and then making off as quick as they could. It wasn't until they were safely in a cab that Junkrat let Roadhog have a look at the wound more closely. The bullet had gone in just above his shoulderblade and exited below his collarbone, but it wasn't bleeding all that much anymore. Probably had torn up some muscles though. Junkrat tried to not show the pain his was in, teeth chewing his bottom lip frantically. 

Hospital visits were always awkward. Roadhog was still covered in blood from head to toe, scaring the life out of the hospital staff but at least it ensured they helped Junkrat as soon as possible.

Junkrat was tense, nervous. He didn't want to be there, the clinical white walls and the staff got on his nerves, but Roadhog insisted this was necessary. At least all they had to do were desinfection, stitches and bandaging. It could have been much worse. 

Back in the hotel, Junkrat was all bandaged up and counting the money while Roadhog took care of the grazed skin where bullets had flown past. He still got goosebumps when he thought back to the moment where he was certain he was going to die. He owed Junkrat his life.

But it was far too close. They couldn't afford another slip up like this.

“Why were those people after you?” Roadhog asked while he rubbed the desinfectant onto his torn skin. Junkrat sighed, thinking of how to explain it best. 

“They were Junkers. Former mates of mine. Though as far as 'mates' go I suppose we weren't that well acquainted. We were in a group, made our own rules. Did what we wanted, when we wanted to. I used to maintain the weapons, make them bombs and that sort of shit. There was a rival gang, that had been stealing members from us. They wanted to get back at them. I didn't think they'd go that far.” 

“What do you mean?”  
“They sneaked into the camp at night, killed em all. Most quietly, not even a chance to defend themselves. Even our former mates. Then they blew up the rest when the alarm was raised. Some of those people they-” Junkrat bit his lip. “They had kids. They were caught in the explosions. No one made it out.”

Roadhog saw Junkrat shake his head.   
“My bombs were meant to hurt omnics and bad people, not innocent kids. I abandoned the gang after that, ratted them out to the Bloodshots. Betrayed them, in their eyes. I just thought someone should do the same to them as they did to those kids, see how they liked it. Turns out they didn't like that at all. Been chasing me ever since.”

Junkrat seemed on the verge of tears and Roadhog couldn't blame him.   
“I'm sorry you had to go through that.” he said, quietly. “You did the right thing, leaving them. They deserved what they got.”  
“I don't regret selling them out.” Junkrat shook his head. “I regret that the Bloodshots weren't more thorough. Shoulda done it myself, but apparently I'm not above a bit of sentiment. Fucking pathetic. If I'd just gotten over myself then this wouldn't have happened. You nearly died for fuck's sake!” Junkrat's voice broke, silencing him while he looked away. 

“C'mere.” Roadhog sighed, big arm wrapping around Junkrat's shoulders. Junkrat didn't know what to do at first, but when Roadhog pulled him in for a hug, he seemed to get it, following his instincts and wrapping himself around the larger man. 

“You did good.” Roadhog mumbled. “It's all right. I'm fine and they're dead.”  
“Damned right. They ain't getting back up from what you did to 'em. You don't fuck around, do you?” Junkrat frowned. “Guess I'm lucky you're on my side!”   
“Yes, you are.” Roadhog chuckled, releasing Junkrat. “So, what's our next mark?”  
“Well we still have a week booked in the hotel here. And the arcade's still standing. I don't like that.” Junkrat mumbled. “Means they can still make money with it. We ought to blow it up for good measure.”

“All right, but they'll probably have video footage of us now. They might come looking for us.” Roadhog noted. Not that he was scared to deal with some cops. He'd done it plenty of times.  
“Eh.” Junkrat shrugged. “Sure, but you know- I'll blow em up and then they won't be looking no more.” he stated, simply. “What do you think?”  
“You're the boss.”  
“We're 50/50 mate. If you don't like it I'm not gonna do it.”  
“I'm good. So long as I get my part I'm fine with anything.” Roadhog said, gesturing at the pile of paper money in front of Junkrat's crossed legs.  
“Oh, right.” Junkrat handed him over half of the loot, though it wasn't that much. But Roadhog knew there'd be bigger jobs. “So, go back to the arcade end of the week?”  
“Yeah give it a few days to simmer down. They'll be hot on us for a while I reckon.” Junkrat agreed.   
“Yeah.” Roadhog nodded, settling against the pillows. He was tired, body weary. 

“Hey, hog?” Junkrat mumbled, eyes staring at the tv screen.  
“Mh?”  
“Thanks for saving me. And for not taking that deal.”  
“Were you afraid I would?” Roadhog said, glancing in Junkrat's direction slightly.   
“Wouldn't really have been able to do much about it, right?” Junkrat shrugged.   
“That's not a valid answer to my question.”  
“Yeah, I was.” Junkrat admitted with a sigh. “Why didn't you deal? Coulda just walked away.”  
“But then you'd be dead.” Roadhog simply stated.   
“Didn't know you cared.” Junkrat grinned.  
“-And I wouldn't get payed.” Roadhog added, cheeky smile on his face.  
“Or maybe you're just an asshole.” Junkrat's smile dropped to a sarcastic frown, prying a laugh from Roadhog. 

“You know it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: names chapter something cutiesy  
> Also me: Makes it literally the most violent thing I've ever written


	8. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He still hasn't finished all nine of those bobas.

Spending a week in a hotel room wasn't easy. Roadhog was insistant they didn't go out to avoid being detected by the authorities, but Junkrat was not the kind of person that took well to that kind of thing. He had to let out his energy, do things, occupy that fast little brain of his. Sometimes he kept himself busy, tinkering away at his bombs or his prosthetic arm, or maybe he'd watch some T.V. Those were the moments Roadhog had some time to himself, that he didn't have to constantly watch his charge and could relax. Or well, relax as much as possible in the vicinity of Junkrat. 

“Hey Roadie, come outside for a second.” Junkrat called from the balcony.   
“What? Why?” Roadhog asked, disturbed. He was just having a nice relaxing nap, finally having the bed to himself.   
“Just come out!” Junkrat urged. 

Roadhog groaned, getting up with a sigh. He didn't bother putting on a shirt or pants before sauntering onto the balcony in his underwear, through the opened glass doors. The weather was glorious today, sunny, but not overly hot with a slight breeze that cooled the skin just right. Junkrat was drinking one of the nine milk teas he'd ordered the day they got here, sitting on the concrete floor of the balcony, his legs dangling through the black metal lattice work on the edge. He was only wearing a loose sleeveless top and a pair of very short shorts, not leaving much to the imagination. Roadhog didn't particularly mind. 

“What's up?” Roadhog asked, sitting down next to Junkrat.  
“I was just taking in the views and I thought you should see them too. Real switch up from the wasteland we came from, huh?” Junkrat said, pointing at the park not too far away. Roadhog had always thought the cherry blossom trees were just a Japanese stereotype thing, something comics exaggerated to add a romantic feeling to their panels. But it wasn't just a stereotype. At least it wasn't around here. There were bloody cherry blossom trees everywhere, the lost petals blowing everywhere on the wind. 

“Yeah.” Roadhog agreed. “It's quite a beautiful valley, isn't it?”  
“It is. Never seen a place this green in all my life.” Junkrat said, eyes scanning the view of the lush mountainside with interest. “Hard to imagine people don't ever stop to take it all in. Like they don't know any better.”  
“They don't.”  
“Well yeah I suppose.” Junkrat sighed. “Still, never considered how different it would be out here.”  
“You thought the whole world was laid to waste?” Roadhog asked.  
“Yeah, I guess. That's pretty stupid, isn't it?” Junkrat chuckled. “It all seems so small when you look at it on a map. Like it's not far at all. But it's a lot bigger than I thought.”

The city was busy below them, cars driving by and people shopping with the rustling of plastic bags. Brightly coloured advertisement boards changed every few minutes, the sound of footsteps on the street, people talking on the phone or to eachother, a parking meter pinging with an overdue parking ticket and shop doors sliding open with a soft whirr. Junkrat looked at it and wanted to just capture the whole picture so he could remember it forever. A cool breeze stirred his hair while he leaned his face to the lattice, the curtains fluttering behind him. 

“You like being out here?” Roadhog asked.  
“Yeah. I'm never going back.” Junkrat stated, determined. “I don't want to. I had nothing there.”  
“Now you have nothing somewhere else, though.” Roadhog frowned, not quite comprehending.

“I have you. Some money, a plan, a purpose. Ain't that enough?” 

Roadhog felt his face flush. Did he really just say that? What an idiot. Thank goodness he was wearing his mask. 

“Do you think you'll ever go back, Hog?” Junkrat asked.  
“Maybe some day. Not to Junkertown though. I'd go back home.”  
“You been away a long time?” Junkrat casted an upward glance at Roadhog, eyes bright in the fresh sunlight. Roadhog nodded.  
“Too long.”

Junkrat was quiet for a few seconds, face thoughtful.   
“What, no intrusive question about where I'm actually from?” Roadhog joked.   
“Nah, figured that was too personal. You made it quite clear you didn't want to talk about that.” Junkrat mumbled, missing the joke. “Though I'll admit to a little curiousity.”  
“Maybe one day.” Roadhog smiled. 

“I could really go for some ice cream or summin'.” Junkrat mumbled as he finished his drink.   
“I could go get some.” Roadhog suggested. “I'd like one as well. Think I'll go for an almond magnum. You?”  
“Screwball!” Junkrat grinned enthusiastically, legs wiggling with excitement.   
“All right.” Roadhog chuckled. “Be right back.” 

He went out after putting on a shirt and some shorts, flip flops echoing through the empty hallways of the hotel. There was an ice cream shop two doors down from the hotel, but there was quite a long line. Not surprising with this weather, he supposed. He waited, for once. He could have threatened the people in front of him and staged a robbery of some sort, but he had no energy and besides, they were trying to lay low. 

He got back to the hotel room with the ice cream, already having started his to avoid having it melt. But when he got back there was no one in the room. He was worried for a moment, but then he heard the shower run. Junkrat must have been warm and gone to cool off there. Roadhog put Junkrat's ice cream in the freezer before he had a seat on the balcony. 

It wasn't until thirty minutes later he was starting to think this was odd. Sure, the first time he showered here he was filthy beyond belief, and his shower had taken over an hour, but he'd been relatively clean since. There was no need for a shower this long.

“Junkrat?” Roadhog asked, voice loud enough to drown out the noise of running water.

No reply. 

“Junkrat?” he repeated, getting up. The bathroom door wasn't locked, so he opened it, a cloud of steam washing over him before he saw there was no one in the shower. That little shit. Roadhog growled as he turned off the running water. Junkrat had mislead him and he'd fallen for it like a meek little sheep. He could be anywhere by now. It'd been a good 40 minutes since Roadhog last saw him. A fire sparked in his belly. Anger. Junkrat had lied to him and then lead him along like a dog on a leash. 

Roadhog got into his usual mission outfit, taking his hook and shotgun with him. There was one place he could think of that Junkrat might have gone to. The arcade. As soon as he stepped out of the hotel's front door, he noticed something off. People were running to their cars, trying to flee from something. He travelled in the opposite direction they were coming from, shoving them aside. He was about halfway there when a huge explosion shook the city. It could only be Junkrat's doing. 

He continued, running as fast as he could towards the arcade. The people around him screaming didn't even make an impression. He was focused on one thing only. Finding that lying little twerp. 

He didn't even have to look for him. He was right outside the arcade, carrying a duffle bag full of loot, looking proudly at the smouldering arcade. Roadhog snorted angrily, his hook flying and finding it's grip around Junkrat's metal arm. Roadhog yanked hard and there was a surprised yelp from Junkrat before he travelled a couple of yards through the air and was snatched by Roadhog's free hand. Roadhog immediately dropped him, Junkrat stumbling to his feet.   
“What the hell do you think you're doing?!” Roadhog growled. “We agreed to lay low until Friday!”  
“Doesn't mean you have to demolish my arm, mate! Shit, how am I ever gonna-” Junkrat fiddled with where the hook had torn his prosthetic loose. 

“Answer me!” Roadhog yanked Junkrat by the strap of his far too loose top, so he was face to face with him. Junkrat flinched, for once not saying anything while his eyes stared at the visors of Roadhog's mask. He was still for only a moment before he started struggling.   
“I just did what we shoulda done the first time! Let me go!” Junkrat hissed.   
“You could have told me!” Roadhog growled.   
“No, I couldn't have, you'd just have told me to wait! Besides, it's not like I can't do things by myself!” Junkrat struggled hard and Roadhog was losing his grip.  
“If you want to make this partnership work you're going to have to trust me!”   
“What's there ta trust when you got lips that are sealed tighter than a miser's purse!?” Junkrat finally broke free, jumping back out of Roadhog's reach. 

“I can't even tell how you feel 99% of the time because of that bloody mask!” Junkrat snarled, almost like an animal. Roadhog grunted angrily, hand moving up and unclipping his mask, tearing it off.  
“That what you want?” he said, seeing Junkrat fall silent, eyes wide while he stared at Roadhog's face. Was he blushing? Shame, perhaps. It was hard to see with the sun shining into Roadhog's eyes.

“I trust you, Junkrat. Enough to call you my partner. Enough to show you my face.” Roadhog sighed. “We agreed to be a team.”

Junkrat stood up a little straighter, backing out of his aggressive stance.   
“Yeah. We did. We are.” he said, nodding. Roadhog returned the nod, putting his mask back on when he heard sirens blare in the distance. 

“Let's go.” Roadhog nudged towards a narrow alleyway, taking the lead as they took a detour towards the hotel. 

Back in their room, things were more than a little awkward. Junkrat was on the balcony again, watching the cloud of smoke that rose from the arcade to way up above the city while Roadhog didn't know what to say. He didn't plan to show Junkrat his face so quickly, but it just happened. He didn't think, he just did it. That wasn't like Roadhog. Not at all. But a more frightening thing came to mind. What if Junkrat had recognized him? Had he seen his face and remembered that it was Roadhog he met all those years ago? 

No, probably not. 

He would have said something. Junkrat wasn't the kind of person that could keep a realization like that quiet. Roadhog glanced at Junkrat, who was sitting cross legged in the balcony chair. He would have giggled at the mayhem his explosion had caused, but all he did now was watch. Sometimes not even that. 

“I'm going out for food.” Roadhog announced.   
“Okay, see ya in a bit, mate.” Junkrat nodded. 

Roadhog decided not to include a warning about dissapearing again. He had to believe that Junkrat wouldn't. How else was this ever going to work?

He returned thirty minutes later to a sleeping Junkrat, sprawled out on the bed. Not quite where he left him but still there. There was something on Roadhog's side of the bed, one of those weird onion tentacle things. What was it, a Pachimari? Roadhog walked over to it and picked it up, seeing the note that was underneath it. 

All it read was 'I'm sorry' with a little smiley bomb drawn beneath it. 

Roadhog let out a deep, weary sigh, unable to stop a tiny smile from appearing around his lips. 

“You're a handful.”


	9. Jamie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little short but I'm going to comic con tomorrow and didn't wanna keep this from you guys for two more days!

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Roadhog blinked slowly, pulled out of his sleep by the swearing. He heard some metal clanging sounds, then swearing again.  
“If it just- shit. Of course.” 

“Junkrat?” Roadhog rose up, hearing Junkrat gasp. “Everything all right?”  
“Yeah, everything's fine mate!” Junkrat spoke far too fast for his words to be true.  
“You sure?” Roadhog asked again. It was pitch dark, so Roadhog couldn't see where Junkrat was, but it was obvious he'd left the bed. Perhaps he was over at the kitchen table.  
“Yeah! Everything under control!” Junkrat said, again not sounding like everything was in fact under control. 

“All right.” Roadhog mumbled, lying back down and pretending he fell asleep again. 

“Fuck of course he'd notice you ya drongo, you're making way too much noise. Just fucking stop talking for once!” Junkrat whispered. He murmured some more, things Roadhog didn't catch.  
“-can't even fix your arm, fucking useless.”

Now that bit Roadhog did catch. There was more clanging of metal and eventually it just went silent. A sigh, something thumping on the surface of wood. 

“Fuck.”

Junkrat's voice was layered with sadness and sure enough not shortly after Roadhog heard a sob.  
He got up quietly, moving to the kitchen table, where a small table lamp was illuminating the table and Junkrat's figure. He was shaking hard enough for Roadhog to see it from this distance. 

Junkrat was so caught up in his own thoughts he didn't notice Roadhog until he casted a shadow over the table. 

“Roadie!” he gasped, nearly falling off his chair while he tried to hide his arm and his tears simultaneously. “Didn't hear ya approach, mate! You're bloody quiet for someone yer size!”  
“What are you doing?” Roadhog asked, gesturing at the bolts and screws and parts on the table.  
“Just some tinkering.” Junkrat said, still hiding his right arm as well as he could.  
“You were crying.”  
“Me? Nah, just got something in me eye!” Junkrat tried to wave it off with eyes that were still teary. Did he think Roadhog wouldn't see?

Junkrat was so desperately trying to keep it together Roadhog felt a stab in his chest. This was his fault. He'd broken Junkrat's prosthetic arm in a fit of rage after all. It must have felt terrible to Junkrat, being crippled by someone who was supposed to protect him.

“Junkrat-”

“All right, maybe I was! I can't even fix this fucking thing, I'm useless!” Junkrat snapped, wanting to push off against Roadhog but meeting a wall at his back.  
“You're not useless.”  
“I am! Fuck, I even lied to you then lead you astray and went behind your back! You should have just fucking left me! I ain't nothing but a bother and a nuisance to ya anyway!”  
“You're not.” Roadhog said, calmly. “I wouldn't have shown you my face if I felt that way.”  
“Wh- well, I-” Junkrat stammered, lip trembling. 

“You're a smart, resourceful person and I did not respect that. You tried to show me that you were capable of hitting that arcade by yourself, is that right?” Roadhog asked.  
“Well, yeah. Partly.” Junkrat admitted. “Was just getting fed up with you telling me what to do, I guess. I know I shouldn't have but-”

“What was the other part?” Roadhog interrupted him.  
“What?” Junkrat frowned.  
“You said partly. What were your other reasons to go there alone?” Roadhog explained his question.  
“Well I thought you might want one of those Pachimari too.” Junkrat sighed. “And I-” he hesitated.  
“-I didn't want your life in danger again. Seeing that guy put a gun to your neck, I just-”  
“But you were there to save my life, just as I saved yours before. You see? We're strong because we're a team. I know that it's hard to trust someone in the wasteland, that everyone wants to kill everyone, but we're not in the wasteland anymore. And I certainly don't want to kill you.”

“Roadie-” Junkrat said quietly, looking up at Roadhog with wet eyes.  
“Yes, Junkrat?”

“I think that's the most words I've ever heard you say in one go.”

Junkrat sniffed, wiping his tears with that familiar cheeky grin. Roadhog couldn't help but laugh with him. He gave up on sleeping for now and sat down next to Junkrat, finishing his chuckle. 

“So, how do we go about this?” he asked, looking at all the different parts.  
“It's pretty simple-” Junkrat explained what all the parts were, and that focus made it easier for him to think, Roadhog noticed. He was pretty much already done by the time he finished explaining, having tinkered while he talked.  
“-and then that's in place and all I need to do is-” Junkrat cracked the wrist and wrenched a bolt on a little tighter. “-and I'm good as new!”  
“See, you got it.” Roadhog nodded. “I knew you could do it.”  
“Thanks, mate.” Junkrat smiled, softer than usual. Grateful. Sweet.

A flutter.

“Anytime, Junkrat.” Roadhog got up and stretched, ignoring the flutter. Not now. “Got one more day here. You want to explore the city some come morning?” he suggested.

“Oh, you bet! I wanna find more hoodies!” Junkrat cheered.  
“Okay. We ride at dawn.” Roadhog yawned, shuffling back over to the bed. “You should get some sleep too.”  
“Yeah, you're probably right.” Junkrat mumbled, following him. 

Roadhog was close to drifting off when he felt a warm hand on his back, Junkrat's real fingers tracing one of his signature smiley bombs on the skin of Roadhog's back. 

“Roadie?”  
“Mh?”  
“It's okay if you want to call me Jamie.”  
“Okay. Jamie?” Roadhog mumbled with a small pause in between.  
“Y-yes, Roadie?” it was obviously still a little weird for him, but Junkrat did accept it. 

“Go the fuck to sleep.”

Roadhog mumbled the words, Junkrat chuckling and his hand removing itself from Roadhog's back when Junkrat turned onto his other side.

“All right. G'night mate.”  
“Goodnight.”


	10. Barbed wire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're a wanted criminal, a shopping trip isn't the best of ideas.

Roadhog thought back to that night in Hanamura now, while another hit to his stomach did nothing but incite fury. Chains cut into his wrists. Men laughed, blood dripped onto the sand. He wasn't wearing his mask. It'd been taken from him. 

He felt exposed. 

Vulnerable. 

Trapped. 

Trapped by the iron fencing, brick walls, barbed wire and boarded up windows. There were people sitting on makeshift benches while they watched him getting beaten. Dust blowing over the courtyard during a small silence, a calm before another storm. 

How he wished he was back in that hotel now, Junkrat's presence comfortable next to him. Then maybe he could do things differently. He could have told Junkrat they really shouldn't have gone out, that the risk of them getting caught was too big. The Shimadas were probably on to them, it wasn't safe to be out there. He knew it. But Junkrat just lit up whenever he was out in the streets, and it kept him busy, wore him out a little so Roadhog could enjoy some peace and quiet upon their return, maybe. 

He remembered the moment he realized they were surrounded. He'd cursed, but he was glad they brought their weapons this time. They took down an entire police squad before they were finally taken. Roadhog remembered seeing Junkrat finally go down, a shot to the stomach taking him out. He remembered flying into a rage at the sight. He remembered red specks clouding his vision when he stood in front of Junkrat and defended him for everything he was worth. He was out of ammo and they thought it was safe to approach. 

They were wrong.

He clearly recalled tearing an arm off of someone. He'd have happily torn them all to pieces if it hadn't been for Junkrat's pleas to surrender, to not get himself hurt. He'd given in after crushing a skull against the wall, Junkrat begging him. They were outnumbered, one man down and without ammo. It surprised Roadhog they were captured at all. 

And now here they were in some sort of sorry excuse for a prison. Apparently there were people who believed this would contain them. A whack to the face pulled him back from his thoughts, blood on the fist that moved away from his face. 

“Not so tough now, are you, ya tub of lard!?”

“Very original. Never heard that before.” Roadhog scoffed. “That all you got?”

He hadn't seen Junkrat since they'd got here. They were separated as soon as possible, Junkrat placed into emergency treatment for his sustained wounds. Roadhog hadn't been as lucky. He was thrown in with the other inmates. There was a hierarchy here, some guy thinking he was the toughest in this whole sad building. Roadhog had pummeled him into submission gladly. He remembered the whimpering fool begging him for his life. He hadn't given in to it. The bloodstain of where Roadhog fatally kicked him in the head still hadn't been washed away. Too bad it had earned him the handcuffs.

“I got a whole lot more where that came from, big guy.” 

The blows hardly hurt anymore, the pain dulled out by the previous bruises and grazes. Everything tasted of blood. His orange prison tunic was soaked with it. A guard had been watching the entire time, but he did nothing. Probably in the Shimada's pockets, being paid under the table. Roadhog wasn't even surprised. 

It'd been a month. A month of loitering and feeling the stares of the other inmates upon him.  
A month without Junkrat. Roadhog wondered how his partner was doing. If he was even still alive.  
By this point, he was starting to think the shot to his stomach had killed Junkrat. Blood had been spilling richly from the wound and Roadhog's heart sank whenever he thought of the weak, pale face he'd said goodbye to when they got here. 

He'd kept quiet, allowed himself to be abused, all for his sake. They'd made it very clear after the killing he'd done that one more slip up would cost Junkrat his life. That was four weeks ago. So at least he'd been alive then, but now? Roadhog wished he knew. 

“Bah, I'm bored of this. He ain't giving us anything anyway.” 

The group of thugs that had surrounded him stopped beating on him and retreated back to their sad little corner and Roadhog got to his feet, surprisingly easy for someone who had their hands bound. He'd had some practice. 

He sauntered over to a fence and set down, resting his eyes for a bit, sand and dust in his hair while he licked blood from his lips. Nothing too bad. They'd regret it once he was out of these cuffs.

Then he heard the iron door to the cells open. There was a little fenced part of the path towards the cells, allowing Roadhog to see who they were bringing in. Lanky, blonde, struggling. Junkrat. 

Roadhog breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive. 

Junkrat was roughly worked into a cell, Roadhog grinning proudly when Junkrat's teeth burrowed into a guard's arm with a snarl. He was still fighting. They hadn't broken him. 

Roadhog returned to his cell, night falling. He knew what was about to happen. He knew Junkrat well enough for that. He wasn't even surprised when the ground shook and people started screaming. The trusty sound of explosions rang into Roadhog's ears and made him laugh. 

“Get him under control!”  
“Where are all those bombs coming from? Where'd he hide them?!”

Roadhog couldn't stop grinning, fire quickly spreading throughout the building, more explosions and more screaming echoing through the halls. The alarm sounded, and the inmates' cell doors opened while sprinklers activated. Roadhog got up from the bench and tore the chains of his handcuffs to pieces, ignoring how they sliced into the sides of his wrists. Time to get some revenge. 

Of course they were all scrambling to escape. Junkrat had created total chaos and all the inmates were running around willy nilly. But Roadhog found them. The remnants of the gang that thought they owned this place. He'd be damned if he let them go free. They were abusers, rapists. The literal worst of the worst. Perhaps he was being a hypocrit. Him and Junkrat were criminals as well after all. But there were crimes worse than theft and anarchy. 

Perhaps that was why it felt so good to crush their bodies under his bootheel, to hear them scream for mercy before he snapped their pathetic limbs in half. It wasn't until he was done he noticed someone had been watching him. 

Junkrat was at the end of the hallway, smiling when Roadhog looked up.  
“Hey Roadie!” he grinned. “Let's blow this joint, shall we?”

Whenever Junkrat said anything related to explosions you'd better believe he was being serious. They were two miles from the prison before Junkrat turned around and watched the flames engulf the prison.

“Wanna do the honours?” Junkrat held up the detonator to Roadhog.  
“Nah.” Roadhog shook his head. Junkrat giggled and didn't bother asking twice, explosions going off almost simultaneously, walls coming apart and the prison breaking down with a mighty rumbling noise. 

“That felt good.” Junkrat said, nodding in satisfaction. “We should do that more often.”  
“Let's not.” Roadhog frowned.  
“Or not.” Junkrat shrugged. “Either way, I'm glad you're okay. I wasn't sure what they were gonna do to you while I was down and out.”  
“I'm glad you're all right, too.” Roadhog smiled. “Good job on that.” he nudged towards the smouldering prison. “Shall we get going? Reckon we shouldn't stick around too long.”  
“Yeah.” Junkrat nodded. “Here ya go.” he held up Roadhog's mask to him. “Found it among the inmate's possession's cabinet.”

“Thanks.” Roadhog smiled down at Junkrat, who returned it gladly. The mask went back on with it's familiar click, the same smell entering Roadhog's nostrils and giving him some much needed comfort. He felt stronger with this thing on his face. Where no one could see how he felt. No one would see the bruises.

“Oi, if you're done sniffing whatever odor was inside that thing, we gotta get movin'!” Junkrat called, jumping into a van that had been parked down the road. He couldn't drive, but he could still hotwire it, which was exactly what he did. Roadhog grinned, pride, again. He'd chosen well.

His partner.

His rat.


	11. A visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the run and tired, Roadhog and Junkrat end up in an abandoned monastery. Guest appearance by everyone's favourite omnic monk!

“Sit still.” 

“But it hurts!” 

An old, abandoned pagoda bathed in the afternoon sun of Japan, on the side of a mountain. A stream went past it, water clear and cold from the mountains. They'd stopped there after driving for over six hours, but nowhere was far enough when you were running. Still, it seemed inprobable that anyone would come and find them here. They'd gone off the main road, driving through small villages and over narrow country roads for miles. Until they found this place. Desolate, empty, still a sliver of it's former glory visible, but no one around to actually enjoy it. 

Junkrat was hurt, as in his face was bleeding. Still. Roadhog was having a look at it. It was a deep gash, though Junkrat didn't want to admit it. He knew it probably needed stitches.   
“Go clean it in the water outside. I'll see if I can find some first aid equipment.” Roadhog mumbled.

Junkrat whined, eyes begging and head shaking.   
“Come on.” Roadhog insisted. “It'll be better to get it over with.”  
“I suppose.” Junkrat sighed, getting up and doing as Roadhog had said. He knew it was probably for the best. 

Roadhog went to search for anything that could help, needle and thread or just clean cloth, bandages. It looked like this was once a monastery, so there'd be a nursery somewhere, right?   
He hit the jackpot not much later, walking into said nursery, cupboards full of medical supplies. Alcohol too. They should take this opportunity and stock up on first aid supplies. 

Junkrat returned, face and cut looking as clean as could be. He reluctantly sat down with Roadhog, allowing the larger man to clean it again, with a wipe of alcohol this time. It was obvious that Junkrat was in pain, but he grinned and bore it, likely not wanting to worry Roadhog. 

“What did they do to you?” Roadhog asked, to distract his protégé a little.   
“Not much besides torment me with threats of how resistance would get you killed.” Junkrat mumbled. “Tried to beat it out of me a few times. Nothing major, just a few bruises.”   
Roadhog lifted Junkrat's shirt and saw it was definitely more than a few bruises. There was a fresh scar where Junkrat had been shot, not properly healed but closed up at least. It was surrounded by bruises and grazes. 

“Hey, hey!” Junkrat tried to shove the shirt down, but he couldn't overpower Roadhog.   
“It's okay. I just want to see.” Roadhog mumbled. “What about the rest of you?”  
“It's fine, I swear.” Junkrat mumbled, cheeks flushing.   
“Jamie, I'm just worried.”  
“My ribs are probably bruised. And my right ankle. They just- snapped it. It's good enough to walk on now, but it hurts like hell.” Junkrat sighed, admitting defeat.  
“We'll rest here then. Until you're better.” Roadhog decided.   
“Roadie-”  
“Don't you dare 'Roadie' me. You need to recover. There's enough around here to make it for a few days. Now, sit still and let me sow up that gash on your cheek.”  
“All right.” Junkrat moped, crossing his arms while Roadhog took the suture equipment from the first aid kit. Junkrat's first instinct was to flinch when Roadhog brought the small hook close to his face, a silent whimper. 

“I'm going to need you to sit still, all right? You flinch and I could tear off a piece of your face.” Roadhog warned him. Junkrat nodded, but he still looked terrified.   
“Be careful?”  
“Of course.” Roadhog nodded. 

The sharp steel pierced Junkrat's skin a little too easily, Roadhog carefully observing Junkrat's reaction. There was a whine, but he kept as still as possible, fingers digging into the cloth of his pants, knuckles white. Roadhog had done this a few times on himself before. He knew it hurt. He moved as quickly as possible, Junkrat mellowing out slightly after getting used to the feeling. 

“It's done. Try not to touch it.” Roadhog mumbled while he desinfected it again.  
“All right. Thanks, Roadie.” Junkrat smiled. “You need anything done?”  
“Nah, I think I'm good.” Roadhog nodded.   
“You sure? You looked pretty banged up.” Junkrat gave him a worried look, a sincere one, one Roadhog hadn't seen before. 

“What'd they do to you?” Junkrat asked, voice quiet.  
“Just a few fist fights.” Roadhog shrugged.   
“You mean you let yourself get beaten up.” Junkrat frowned. “No one would ever even get close if you didn't let them.”  
“It's nothing.” Roadhog grunted, getting up and walking away, though he didn't quite know where.   
“Gonna do some scouting. Be back soon.”

“Why didn't you fight back?”

Junkrat asked but he got no answer, Roadhog closing the door behind him when he left the room. 

“Well so much for that.” Junkrat frowned. “Oh yeah, I trust you Junkrat, sure! We're partners, we are!” Junkrat mumbled to himself a little, starting to clear up the first aid stuff. “Load of crap.”  
He wasn't really angry, just a little annoyed. He knew he had to be patient, Roadhog would only talk when he wanted to. When he was ready. Too bad Junkrat had little to no patience. 

He was scurrying about when he heard the doors open. Odd. Roadie wouldn't be this quick, would he? Junkrat listened carefully, but all he heard was the door closing again. No footsteps. He shrugged. 

Must have been the wind.

Roadhog splashed some of the cold mountain water on his face, cooling it's sore bruises and grazes. Finally he felt himself relax a little. He'd been high strung ever since the escape. He really should tell Junkrat why he didn't fight back but he just wasn't in the mood for conversation. He was in the mood for sleep. He needed some downtime. Alone. He laid down under yet another bloody cherry tree and settled for a nap. Junkrat would be fine on his own for a while. 

He dozed off quickly in the afternoon sun, but it wasn't to last. Five minutes in and he heard a high pitched scream come from the monastery. Roadhog let out a deep sigh. No one had driven up to the monastery, there were no helicopters in the sky, there was nothing to indicate any kind of danger. Then what was Junkrat screaming about? Grumbling, Roadhog got to his feet and sauntered back, not particularly in a hurry. 

“Roadie, we have a mechanical pest problem!” Junkrat was obviously furious about something, immediately shooting off once Roadhog came back. “There's an omnic around somewhere. He fled when I noticed him!”  
“An omnic? What kind?” Roadhog asked, alarmed. If they'd send omnic droids to look for them they had a serious problem.   
“I don't know, I ain't never seen one like it before! He was floaty!” Junkrat shrugged.  
“Floaty.” Roadhog frowned with sarcasm.   
“Yeah!” Junkrat nodded hastily.  
“Are you sure you've been drinking enough, Jamison?”  
“Oh har-har! I know what I saw!” Junkrat growled. “It was a floating omnic I swear on me mum!”

“Well what did you do?” Roadhog asked.   
“Threatened to kill it, of course. Piece of junk.” Junkrat crossed his arms. “It went to hide away, I think.”

“No, I am still here.”

Roadhog looked up and saw the omnic Junkrat had mentioned. Floating and looking slightly different from the other omnics Roadhog knew. Junkrat was about to leap at it, but Roadhog simply put a hand over his entire head, stopping him from talking as well as seeing.

“Start explaining, omnic.” Roadhog huffed. “You here to report us?”  
“Oh, goodness, no!” the omnic exclaimed. “I simply came to this old monastery to find some peace and quiet. To meditate!”  
“Meditate? You some kind of monk?” Roadhog frowned.  
“Yes! I had heard of this old monastery through a friend and wished to see it for myself. Please, I mean no harm.” the omnic claimed, seeming earnest.   
“Like we'll believe that.” Junkrat scoffed, finally having freed himself from Roadhog's grip. 

“I believe you.” Roadhog nodded. "I don't trust you, but I believe you. Don't prove me wrong."  
“What? Roadie-” Junkrat tried to protest.  
“We can't afford to kick up a storm now, Jamie.” Roadhog mumbled. “He seems harmless. And if he's not, metal breaks very easily.”  
“That won't be necessary, I assure you. You may call me Zenyatta, if it's of any interest to you.” the omnic remained friendly and calm and it was starting to get on Roadhog's nerves.  
“It's not.” Roadhog grumbled, turning around to go back to his nap spot. 

He watched how Junkrat emerged not much later, followed by the omnic, who was gently floating behind him. He didn't appear to be talking to Junkrat, just watching. Something which annoyed Junkrat thoroughly. It was actually kind of amusing to watch. 

“Will you get out of my hair already?!” Junkrat snapped.   
“But I am not in your hair, Jamie.”  
“Do not ever call me that again if you want to live! Or whatever it is you're doing!” Junkrat scowled. 

“It depends on what you mean by alive. I can think, I can feel, I can dream.”  
“But ya ain't got a pulse. No blood flowing through your veins. No heart beating in your chest.” Junkrat grumbled.   
“True. I suppose I am not practically alive. But that would also mean you could not actually kill me. But you can.” Zenyatta argued.   
“And I will if you keep on.” Junkrat growled. “I got no desire to speak to ya.”  
“That's a shame. I think we're having a fascinating conversation.” Zenyatta disagreed optimistically. “What does make one 'Living'?” 

Junkrat was quiet for a while, contemplating the question even though he said he didn't want to talk. He really didn't. Omnics were the whole reason his home was destroyed. The omnics might not have been the ones setting the bomb, but they were the reason the ALF was created. One bad thing leads to another. And then there were the omnics that survived the explosion. Radiation twisted their programming. Almost all of them were hostile, and Jamie could not just forget the killings he'd witnessed at the hands of omnics. Omnics like Zenyatta. Though he had to admit that Zenyatta seemed different. Maybe he meant well.

“I guess feeling means you're alive.” he eventually mumbled.   
“Interesting.” Zenyatta merely nodded. “Explain.”  
“Well, if you're alive and not feeling anything you might as well be dead, right? But if you're feeling something, pain, sadness, or hope, then you know you're alive.” Junkrat muttered.   
“Yes. I see what you mean.” Zenyatta nodded. “I think you're quite right.”  
“You do?” Junkrat frowned.  
“Oh yes. But you still have not told me what to call you.” Zenyatta changed the subject.  
“Junkrat.” Junkrat said. “Jamison if you're feeling chummy.”

“I have never experienced feeling chummy.” Zenyatta said, oblivious.  
“It means friendly.” Junkrat clarified.  
“Oh, then I guess I am feeling chummy. Quite a lot of the time, actually!” Zenyatta seemed elated.  
“Didn't you come here to meditate?” Junkrat said, crossing his arms. He'd had enough conversation with this cheerful omnic for now.   
“I did. And I shall.” Zenyatta seemed to understand Junkrat's hint, finally leaving. 

“Don't trust him.”

Roadhog mumbled it once Zenyatta was out of earshot. Junkrat looked up, coming to sit on the other side of the tree with his back to it.   
“He seems-”  
“-Don't trust him. He's an omnic. He doesn't care. And he's not alive.” Roadhog grunted. “It's programming went funny is all. We'll leave first thing in the morning. Thing's getting on my nerves.”  
“Yeah, you're probably right.” Junkrat mumbled. 

It was the deep of night when Junkrat woke up, soft hovering sound next to him. A metal finger gestured for him to be quiet, Roadhog snoring loudly next to him. 

“Follow me.” Zenyatta whispered.


	12. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zenyatta has a hidden basement and Roadhog's been hiding a few things as well they're just not in his basement.

“What is this, Zen?”

Junkrat frowned, sleepy while he followed Zenyatta through the monastery, bare feet treading lightly on the old wooden floor. He ruffled his tousled blonde hair lazily, wearing only a pair of shorts and a hoodie, another one nicked from Roadhog. It was grey with the word 'Superstar' printed on the chest in pink, the letters lined with strass. 

“Just follow me. I promise you are in no danger.” Zenyatta replied, leading Junkrat down the hallway. “Did you know this place once served as a refuge for victims of the river flood?”  
“Nah, but that's real fascinating.” Junkrat yawned.  
“You are young, you do not yet understand everything.” Zenyatta seemed to smile. “It was once a place of great importance. It may be faded, but it's spirit remains.”  
“Whatever.” Junkrat frowned. “This going anywhere?”  
“Yes. We have just arrived.” Zenyatta gestured at a large, half moon shaped door, moss overgrowing it. It seemed to have been made from some kind of metal, but rust now clouded it.  
“Well this just looks like a big old door to me.” Junkrat shrugged. “What of it?”  
“Ah yes, it may appear old, but it still serves it purpose. Watch.” Zenyatta took one of his floating orbs and inserted it into the specially fitted lock. 

An old circuit that was drawn on the door lit up, seemingly set in motion by Zenyatta's orb. A heavy thud, the turning of ancient cogwheels and the door opened, moss falling away and rust dissapearing, the door looking as new. 

“Do you see now?”  
“How the bloody hell did ya do that?” Junkrat frowned, still not understanding. “What's this about, Zen?”  
“Come, we will descend and I will explain.” Zenyatta gestured for Junkrat to follow him. Junkrat complied, if impatiently.  
His naked feet were cold on the sleek metal stairs that spiralled down seemingly endless. He shivered. This all looked new, but if that door had been anything to go by this place had existed for a long time. How come there was no dust? No wear and tear of time? 

“We are here.” Zenyatta said, gesturing to a circular room that had five statues of omnics in it. One was Zenyatta, but Junkrat did not recognize the others. 

“This where you ritually butcher me and sacrifice my blood to your omnic gods?” Junkrat frowned, rather unimpressed. Zenyatta chuckled.  
“Such barbarian rituals are only carried out by the most savage of humans.” he simply stated.  
“So what's the big deal then?” Junkrat frowned.  
“I wish only to give you something.” Zenyatta said, inserting another orb into yet another lock. 

This one granted acces to a pedestal in the middle of the room, the five statues activating, their unique forhead patterns lighting up and bathing the room in a sharp blue light. Zenyatta gestured at the statues before he turned to Junkrat and spoke. 

“It all started with the Omnium.”

Roadhog grunted when he woke up, sitting up whilst leaning on his elbows. It was the dead of night, why was he awake? 

There was no sound, all was quiet. He listened a few seconds, just to be sure. Nothing.

Must have been something he ate. He shrugged and laid back down. 

Then he heard it. 

A faint thud, sounding like it was beneath the ground. Roadhog wanted to nudge Junkrat, looking over his shoulder but finding him gone. Alarm bells started ringing in Roadhog's head. Had the omnic taken Jamie? His weapon was still next to his bedroll. No blood or signs of a struggle. Jamie would not have come quietly. Roadhog got to his feet, grabbed his scrap gun and started to search.

The blue light disoriented Junkrat. The omnic in front of him spoke calmly, yet demanding.  
“Do you understand, Jamison?”  
“Zen, I-” 

“Jamie?!”

Roadhog's voice was distant, but Junkrat gasped at the sound. He wanted to turn around, run up the stairs, back to Roadie. Back to safety. But Zenyatta grabbed him by the arm. His metal arm, coincidentally. Junkrat glanced down as Zenyatta let go. 

There was hardly a difference.

“This is of the utmost importance, Jamison. Please.” Zenyatta urged.  
“Yeah, I get it mate.” Junkrat nodded slowly, his left hand covering the place where Zenyatta had grabbed him, trying to hide it. “I get it.”  
“Good.” Zenyatta nodded. 

“Jamie!” Roadhog grunted as he got the two in sight, descending the stairs with aggresion. He'd closed the gap between him and Junkrat within a breath, getting between him and Zenyatta.  
“Roadie no, wait!” Junkrat struggled as he was shoved back, Roadhog keeping him in place with one hand while he aimed his scrap gun with the other.  
“Give me one good reason not to turn this thing into scrap right now!” Roadhog hissed.  
“We were just talking, he only-”  
“-Got it into your head that not all omnics are bloodthirsty, malprogrammed mistakes?!” Roadhog scoffed. “That kind of shit gets you killed, Jamie. Come on. We're leaving.”  
“Wha- right now?” Junkrat frowned.  
“Right now.”

Junkrat protested, but he couldn't do much against Roadhog's iron grip. Roadhog dragged him back up the stairs and only released him to pack his things.  
“Don't try to argue.” Roadhog said, before Junkrat could fire off. The only thing he got was a glare as Junkrat silently complied. 

It wasn't long before they had all their stuff in the van and got into the front. Junkrat was quiet, too quiet. Even as he looked out the passenger's seat window and waved at Zenyatta while they drove away. The omnic waved back, but Roadhog left him with nothing but a cloud of dust as he revved the engine, speeding away. 

Silence. Gutwrenching, merciless. 

Junkrat crossed his arms and folded himself up, chin on his knees while he looked out the window.  
Roadhog didn't know what to say. He wasn't angry with Junkrat. He was just trying to protect him. He was young, he didn't know the horrors that Roadhog knew. It was Roadhog's duty to keep Jamie safe from that. He was just trying to keep him safe. 

The headlights illuminated the sandy road, a ravine a little to their right and the mountainside to their left. The van hobbled and the ride was uncomfortable, but neither complained. 

“I didn't fight because they threatened to kill you.” 

Junkrat nearly looked up, but stopped himself, huffing. Roadhog ignored it, continuing.

“The first day we got to prison I smashed some big shot's head against the wall. They said they'd deny you care for it. Next time I stepped out of line it'd cost you a little more than a scar. That's why I let them beat me up.”

Junkrat remained quiet, showing no signs of emotion. 

“Maybe I shouldn't have pulled you away from that omnic like that, but-” Roadhog muttered.

“-I watched my family get butchered by those things.”

Roadhog nearly swallowed the words before he'd said them, but he forced them out anyway. Junkrat's eyes grew in their sockets, bright amber flashing as he snapped his head to look at Roadhog, who sighed. 

“I'll be damned if I let the same thing happen to you.” 

“But why?” Junkrat sounded confused. 

“What do you mean why?” Roadhog frowned.  
“Why do you care? You've got the plan, you're perfectly capable of executing it by yourself. You'd get the full benefit. You don't need me.” Junkrat summed it all up. “So why?”

“Because-” Roadhog hesitated, a long silence falling. He didn't know what to say. 

“You said you trusted me.” Junkrat mumbled.  
“I do. But this, it's complicated.” Roadhog sighed. 

“Is it because you think of me as a friend?” Junkrat asked. “You said your family died to the omnics. Did you-” Junkrat hesitated, biting his lip anxiously. “-Did you swear to never let anyone get close again?”

Roadhog just nodded. Clever kid.

“Me too.” Junkrat said. “After that guy left me in the desert, I felt so betrayed that I swore I'd never befriend anyone ever again. They'd just stab me in the back anyway. Was it like that for you, when you lost your family?”  
“Yes. Very much so.” Roadhog confirmed. 

“Well, if it's any consolation, I think I broke that promise to myself when you showed me your face.” Junkrat smiled. Roadhog felt that flutter again, but this time it was accompanied by something else. A nearly overwhelming need to reach for Jamie, ruffle his hair, stroke his cheek. Good thing he was driving and had to keep both hands on the wheel.

“Yeah, so did I.” Roadhog said, confirming it with a nod. “I never thought I could let anyone close to me again, but-” he sighed deeply. “-I guess I was wrong.”

Junkrat smiled once more, warm. He nodded, falling silent again while he looked out the window, the air between them cleared and with that, him relaxing and nodding off. 

“Hey, Roadie?” Junkrat mumbled, about to pass out.  
“Yeah, Jamie?”  
“I'm glad we're friends.” Junkrat smiled, dropping off, cuddling into Roadhog's hoodie more snugly.

Roadhog merely chuckled.

“So am I.”


	13. Hoggy woggy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hands up and give me all the fluff

“You see any coppers?” Junkrat hissed.  
“No, not yet.” Roadhog shook his head. 

They were on a Japanese airport, it wasn't very busy, likely because it wasn't a very big airport. It was rather in the middle of nowhere, but all that mattered was that it had their next destination as a flight option. Volskaya, Russia. 

“If you weren't 20 feet tall we might be able to not stand out!” Junkrat whispered, annoyed.  
“I could try to scuttle.” Roadhog suggested with a grin and a shrug.   
“Very funny, Roadie.” Junkrat rolled his eyes.   
“You stand out more with your hoodie and no shoes. Or pants.”  
“Well it's not my fault we left in a hurry!” Junkrat retorted. “I wish I had shoes. Or proper pants. I'm freezing.” he shivered. “Think we can nick some clothes somewhere?”  
“Probably shouldn't nick anything. Low profile, remember?”  
“Right, of course.” Junkrat nodded. “So nick someone's suitcase instead, yeah?”  
“Jamie.” Roadhog groaned.   
“Do you have a better idea?” 

“You were robbed on the way here? How terrible! I'm so sorry!” a nice, old lady behind the help desk gasped after Junkrat told her what Roadhog cooked up.   
“They took everything, ma'am. Please, if it's not too much to ask, I just need some pants and some footwear.”

“Of course! Come, we have so many suitcases that are left behind and never get claimed, I'm sure there's something in there for you.” she gestured for Junkrat to go along with her, which he did. Roadhog stayed behind, standing on a safe distance from the help desk, taking in the surroundings. It didn't seem there was much security here. Perhaps they thought he and Junkrat had already left the country by now. 

Junkrat returned with a suitcase and some proper pants, as well as shoes.   
“Thank you ever so much.” Junkrat grinned as they went to get a ticket on the next flight to Russia. 

“Okay, so maybe your idea was better.” Junkrat begrudingly admitted when they were out of earshot.  
“Of course it was. Did you get any clothes for me?” Roadhog asked.  
“Yeah a few. Not much stuff in your size though.” Junkrat shrugged. He was a little quiet, even after they'd cleared the air between them after what happened at the temple. It still seemed to bother him. Or maybe there was something else?

They got on the next flight to Russia, the plane only half full. They used that and took three seats each. Roadhog didn't like flying, he'd decided. The seats were too narrow for him to take just one, or even just two. He needed three to sit his impressive body down. The looks he got for it irked him. It helped that they were in first class. Not that many people around to judge him. He didn't usually care about what people thought of him, but he found himself wondering what Junkrat's thoughts were. Junkrat took the three seats in front of him, bending the backrests as far as he could so he could lean over and still talk to Roadhog.

“You okay?” he asked, probably having sensed Roadhog's discomfort.   
“Don't like taking up three seats by myself. Got people staring.” Roadhog mumbled.   
“What? Where?” Junkrat gasping and looking around. “I'll get 'em, hoggy! Don't worry!”  
“No, don't do that.” Roadhog couldn't help but chuckle at Jamie's fierce attitude when he glared around at the other people in first class. “It's fine, I'll live.”  
“You sure? I'll take em down for ya, no prob!” Junkrat said, cracking his knuckles.  
“I know. It's fine. Don't want to draw too much attention after all.” Roadhog muttered. Junkrat gave him a puzzled look, arms crossed as he leaned over the back rest of his chair. He still looked troubled, thoughtful frown on his face. 

“Are you all right?” Roadhog asked. “You're quiet.”  
“I know. I just- guess I'm just thinking too much.” Junkrat sighed. “Never a good thing, that.”  
“What are you thinking about?” Roadhog asked. “We've got a long flight ahead, so we've got some time to talk. We've barely spoken since we escaped. Haven't seen you in a month.” Roadhog invited Junkrat for a conversation, actually kind of craving one right now.   
“Yeah, I know. I didn't like it.” Junkrat said, pouting. “They kept saying they were going to kill you.”   
“Likely just to control you.” Roadhog shrugged.   
“It worked.” Junkrat grunted. “I don't even know what shit they did to me and I don't want to know.”  
“What do you remember?” Roadhog asked.   
“Not much. They kept me half asleep with some kind of tranquillizer. Couldn't do nothing.” Junkrat shuddered. “Took away my arm, too. Dunno what they did to it but it don't work like it used to.” he flexed the joints on his prosthetic arm.   
“I'm sorry. That must have been uncomfortable.” Roadhog said, quietly.   
“It was bloody terrifying.” Junkrat mumbled, looking away. “Not being able to move, strapped to a bed, and the syringes-” Junkrat shook his head and hugged himself as he slid down in his seat, shivering. “They were so cold, Roadie. So cold. And sharp.”

“Jamie, did they torture you?” 

Junkrat remained silent, hugging into Roadhog's hoodie. Roadhog sighed, shaking his head. Anger started that familiar fire in his belly. He should have guessed when he saw Junkrat's many, many bruises. Ankles didn't snap by themselves. 

Roadhog snorted with rage. He should have done worse. He should have torn apart those prison guards while they were still escaping. Roadhog had enough of sitting by himself and squeezed himself into the chairs to sit with Junkrat, who luckily was thin enough to fit in the small space that was left. He seemed grateful for the company, smiling quietly. Roadhog put a hand on Junkrat's back and rubbed carefully, trying to comfort him a little. 

Junkrat quietly sat and let him, but didn't return the gesture. Odd. Roadhog had expected him to want close contact. Comfort.   
“What else is bothering you?” he asked. Junkrat shook his head with a troubled frown.   
“It's stupid.” he mumbled.  
“Still wanna hear it.” Roadhog stated, simply. Junkrat sighed deeply, hands rubbing over his face before he answered.   
“When you came down those stairs at the temple, I wanted to get to you but Zenyatta grabbed me by the arm.” Junkrat said, lifting his prosthetic hand. “And I couldn't see a difference.”  
“You are not an omnic, Jamie.” Roadhog mumbled.   
“I might as well be.” Junkrat wasn't convinced. “Can't feel anything with it. And feeling is being alive.”

“Jamie, you're still a whole person. Maybe you can't feel with your right hand, so what? You still feel other things, right?”  
“Yeah. I feel tired.” Junkrat mumbled, finally sinking his head to Roadhog's shoulder with a sigh. “And I feel grateful too. For a friend like you.” he smiled. 

“What did Zenyatta tell you?” Roadhog asked. “And why did you go with him in the middle of the night? Had me worried.”  
“He said he wasn't going to harm me, that he just wanted to talk.” Junkrat shrugged.  
“And you believed him.” Roadhog stated with a frown.   
“Yeah. And he kept his word, didn't he? Anyway, he told me some story about the other four monks he ran away from because he didn't agree with their ways. He tried to convince me that free choice is a part of being alive as well.”  
“I suppose it is.” Roadhog shrugged. “What else did he say?”  
“Some crap about how I wasn't beyond redemption. That I could still change my ways.”  
“I see. Do you want to?” Roadhog asked.   
“Nah.” Junkrat shrugged, grinning. “I'm having far too much fun for that!”  
“Good.” Roadhog smiled, relieved to see Jamie smiling again. 

“Hog, would you leave if I did want to change my way?” Junkrat asked, looking up at Roadhog.   
“That depends. How would you change?”  
“You know, we could go legit. Like, do an actual job as mercs.” Junkrat mused.   
“Maybe.” Roadhog nodded.   
“You mean you'd maybe leave?”  
“Maybe.” Roadhog repeated.  
“Too much of a risk then. Rather have you than a legit job.” Junkrat smiled and cuddled up to Roadhog. Roadhog chuckled, lightly squeezing Jamie.  
“You're not going soft on me right?” he teased.   
“Never. Only trust ya as far as I can throw ya.” Junkrat joked with a grin.   
“I doubt you could even pick me up to try and throw me.” Roadhog chuckled. Junkrat giggled softly, nestling against Roadhog's arm. 

“Yeah, I wouldn't stand much of a chance.” he agreed.   
“Doesn't it bother you?” Roadhog asked.  
“Does what bother me?” Junkrat frowned, confused.   
“My-” Roadhog looked for the right word. “-size.”  
“Nah mate, why would it bother me?” Junkrat shrugged. “You are who you are.”  
“And who is that?”  
“Hoggy woggy.” Junkrat cooed while he buried his face against Roadhog's chest and rested an arm on Roadhog's stomach. Roadhog shook his head with a laugh, arm wrapping around Junkrat's shoulders on instinct. Junkrat smiled gleefully, settling in for a little nap in the warmest, safest spot he could imagine. 

Roadhog just quietly watched the skies out of the window, a strange warm feeling in his chest. Having Junkrat fall asleep on him like this, it was nice. He felt trusted. It'd been a long time since he felt like that.   
“In all seriousness, though.” Junkrat mumbled, half asleep. “I think you look great. Fuck anybody who don't think the same.”   
“Thank you.” Roadhog chuckled at Junkrat's half fierce fist that was raised and then flopped down over Roadhog's stomach again.   
“S' all good.” Junkrat smiled, finally dropping off. Roadhog watched him for a few moments, fond expression covered by the mask. 

“Yeah, it is.”


	14. Off to a good start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet because I know you guys love cliffhangers

“Bloody freezing!” Junkrat's teeth chittered even after they'd arrived in their hotel room, not far from the airport. “Why did I think Russia was a good idea!?”  
“And we're not even in Moscow. Why here?” Roadhog asked.  
“Because this place is where they made the Svyatogor mech. The machine that repelled the Omnic Crisis in Russia basically by itself!” Junkrat was obviously enthusiastic, wiggling from one leg to the other. “I want to break into the factory and secure some of those parts for ourselves!”  
“I take it they're worth good money?” Roadhog asked, just to make sure.  
“Oh yeah! Top notch tech, that! Will net us a pretty penny!” Junkrat grinned. “And, if I can get my hands on some blueprints, who knows.” he giggled anxiously. 

Roadhog flopped his bag down on the side of the bed, sitting down and taking a moment to observe their room. It was on the ground floor, windows closed and white curtains obscuring them from outside viewing. There was a lot of white here overall, the carpet, the sheets, the walls, the couch. All white. Clinical. Cold. The only things with other colours were the cupboards and the wardrobe. Pitch black and so neat it physically pained him. Thank goodness Junkrat thought the same and quickly turned the whole place into a mess. Roadhog didn't know how he did it, they really only had their clothes and their weapons with them. 

“Need food. I'll get some.” Roadhog mumbled.  
“Sure. I'll try and get the TV working.” Junkrat replied, fiddling with cables. “Hey could you bring some-”  
“-Milk tea with boba? I'll try and find some.”  
“You're the best, mate.” Junkrat grinned. 

Roadhog put on the warmest clothes he could find, going out into the snowy streets to find some kind of supermarket. He noticed some sleek black cars outside the hotel, looking barely used. Kind of like the villains cars from those movies. Probably some kind of suit convention in town that had them all staying at the poshest hotel in town. 

The streets were busy, and Roadhog had no trouble finding a supermarket that provided everything he needed. No bubble tea, though. It didn't seem to be very popular here at all. He lingered in town a little, exploring routes to the factory, which was quite central. Big stern statues lined the streets, black lanterns on the pavement and cobblestones on the road. Good thing he didn't bring his bike. Cobblestones wrought havoc on the suspension. 

He returned to the hotel, noticing a train of the black cars driving past at full speed. Where were they going in such a hurry? He was distracted by sirens blaring as another train of police cars pursued the black cars. What the hell had happened? Roadhog checked his phone, seeing one message from Junkrat. 

'Roadie you need to get back, now.'

Roadhog gasped, damning himself for not checking his phone earlier. He hurried to the hotel, seeing police outside the entrance. He had to show his hotel card before he was allowed through, seeing total chaos when he entered through the automatic door. Someone had been shot and there was very typical explosion damage to the whole lobby. People were talking to police officers, one woman was crying and in shock.

Roadhog's heart hammered against his chest as he hurried back to their room, the trail of destruction leading straight there. The door was blown off the hinges, the room even more of a mess than before.

“Jamie?” Roadhog asked even though he knew as soon as he didn't see him anywhere. 

They'd taken him.

Roadhog felt himself shake. 

He didn't even know who the people who took him were. 

Why did they want Junkrat? 

How had they found him so quickly? 

Roadhog knew he had to calm down and think rationally, but he found it hard with his heart worrying about Junkrat and his head trying to think logically. He sat down and took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. 

Then he noticed something. Something in his bag, a piece of paper. Scribbled in a hurry but definitely Junkrat's handwriting. 

'LP: B622YY' 

A license plate number. 

“Oh, you clever little shit.” Roadhog laughed. Relief. At least he had a lead to follow. 

He strapped into gear, trusty hook on his belt and weapon in hand. 

As he expected, no one dared to challenge him when he asked to track the number at the town hall. The license plate belonged to a car that was legally owned by Volskaya industries, and that told Roadhog enough. He was going to have to infiltrate the factory. Someone in there knew where they were keeping Junkrat, surely. And if there wasn't, he'd kill every last one of them. 

Nobody took his rat and lived.


	15. Tremble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for gore and torture!

Cold. Shivers running down his spine. 

Steel. His head ached. 

“Where is it?”

“Dunno what you're on about, mate.”

Pain. Whatever the fuck they were doing, it hurt like hell. He clenched his teeth to keep himself from screaming. He wouldn't give them that pleasure.

“We know you found something inside the Omnium! Tell us where it is!”

“Oh, that? It's a fifty page essay about how you're going to die horrifically once Roadie gets here.” Junkrat giggled, breathing heavily and teeth chittering. Was he shaking? Probably. He barely felt it. Light that shone into his eyes disorientated him and kept him from resting. His eyes were tired. So tired.

“Ah yes, your precious bodyguard. You honestly believe he'll find you here? He doesn't even know who we are. And you haven't even told him about the treasure, have you? Can't blame you for not trusting the fat fuck.”  
“What'd you fucking say?!” Junkrat veered up, only held back by the leather straps around his wrists, waist and ankles. 

“Now, now, don't pull too hard. Might hurt yourself.”

“Fuck you. I ain't telling you shit. I'd rather die.” Junkrat hissed. 

“I suspected as much. Gag him so he won't bite his tongue. I'll be back before long.” 

Junkrat struggled against the hands that restrained him, his mouth was opened and he snapped his teeth at the closest thing, drawing blood. Swearing and a sharp pain in his side. He was held down more roughly, something being pushed into his mouth that forced his jaws apart uncomfortably. They strapped it on tight. Too tight. It cut into the corners of his mouth and into the skin of his scalp. 

They left and Junkrat used the light of the open door to quickly check his surroundings. He was in some sort of cellar, cold and dark. He looked down and saw he was on something that didn't look unlike a medieval torture table. Only it was made of steel. He shivered again. They'd taken his shirt, but at least they'd left his pants. He checked how tightly they'd strapped his limbs, feeling a little bit of room, but not enough to make his escape right now. 

He just had to hold on. He was sure Roadie would find the license plate number he'd scribbled and hidden in his bag just in time. Roadie would come for him. He would. 

“Hold on, Jamie. I'm on my way.” Roadhog mumbled the words as he observed the entrance to the Volskaya factory. He saw the black cars parked outside. One had the license plate Junkrat had left as a clue. B622YY. He was at the right place. He checked his munitions one last time. He'd brought enough to blow up the whole city and that's exactly what he was going to do if that's what it took. He'd brought Junkrat's grenade launcher and some grenades, they'd blaze their way out of here side by side. 

He had to get in there first, though.

Roadhog decided there was no time for subtlety. Every second he wasted might mean life or death for Jamie. He stepped out onto the street and charged at the two gate guards, hooking one and shooting the other. He lifted the hooked one in the air by his neck. 

“Where's my rat?!”

He got a choked answer mixed in with terrified noises. Cellar. Downstairs. Roadhog grunted and threw the man aside against a wall, knocking him clean out. Roadhog knew he had to be quick now. People would see the bodies and alert the police. 

“Still not talking, is he?”

Junkrat was woken up by the snide voice that had interrogated him before.

“No sir. He won't say a word.” 

Junkrat would have retorted if not for the gag. Some muffled sounds came out, though.  
“Remove the gag.”  
“But sir-”  
“Do it.”

Junkrat growled lowly as the gag was removed, lips dry and the corners of his mouth bleeding.  
“The fuck you want?” he asked, voice hoarse.  
“I want to know where you've hidden your bloody treasure. I know you're lying and I know you have it somewhere. Tell us, and maybe we'll let you live.”  
“I'll take my chances.” Junkrat scoffed. 

“Perhaps I can convince you otherwise.”

Junkrat flinched when something was placed on his upper right leg. 

“You know what this is?”  
“Not a clue mate. It's bloody cold though. Could've been gentle and warmed it up for me.” Junkrat smirked.  
“This is something we aqcuired from Vishkar. It's cutting edge technology. If you catch my drift.”  
“The fuck-” Junkrat frowned but then caught on. “No, no, you wouldn't.” he muttered, slightly panicking. “I already lost a limb. Please.”  
“Tell us where the treasure is and you'll leave here relatively unscatched. I promise.” 

Junkrat shook hard, heart hammering in his throat. He couldn't see the face in front of him clearly, but it was rather close. He had to make a decision.  
“All right.” he mumbled. “I'll tell you.”  
“An excellent choice.” the cold steel left his skin and Junkrat breathed a short sigh of relief. 

“I'm listening.”  
“Closer, my voice ain't great.” Junkrat said, voice still soft and hoarse.  
“Fine. What is it?”  
Junkrat waited until the person was close enough, then lurched forward and locked his teeth around the tender flesh of his interrogator's ear. He jerked his head back with as much power as he could muster, feeling the skin rip under the pressure of his teeth, spitting it out as soon as it had come loose. A horrified cry of pain and his interrogator sank to his knees, hands grasping at his head. 

“You fucking-!” The two assistants wasted no time in restraining Junkrat.  
“Take the fucker's leg!” his interrogator growled while he got up. “Make him suffer!”

The cold feeling returned to his skin, a short shiver.

There was no warning. 

The scream blotted out the noise of battle, Roadhog freezing in place. It cut straight through him, shivers down his spine as he turned to the direction of the bone chilling sound. Jamie.

“No, no, no, no.” Roadhog growled as he ran to the door and down the stairs into the cellar. He wasn't challenged. There was no one left to do so. There was a blood trail coming out of one room, Roadhog storming in and expecting to have to fight, but there was nobody there. Nobody except Junkrat. Shaking, whimpering, crying and begging. 

Roadhog tried not to look at the dismembered leg, he really did, but his gaze passed it none the less. He had a strong stomach, but even he felt queasy at the sight. There was so much blood the smell intruded through his mask's filters and Roadhog felt his stomach churn uneasily.

No. Not now. 

He shook his head and steeled himself. Jamie needed him. 

Roadhog loosened the straps around Jamie's remaining limbs and turned the bright light away from his face. Junkrat tried to resist when Roadhog picked him up, instinctively trying to get away from him.  
“Jamie, it's all right. It's me.” Roadhog mumbled, holding on while he carried Junkrat out of the cellar. Junkrat stopped resisting, a soft whisper of Roadhog's name passing his lips.  
“You're going to be okay. I've got you.” Roadhog mumbled, ripping a jacket off a corpse and pressing it to Junkrat's heavily bleeding leg. 

Junkrat didn't even register being carried out and getting into a taxi to the nearest hospital. He vaguely heard the sirens passing them as the taxi went the opposite direction. What he experienced most vividly however, was Roadhog. His words of comfort, the gruff voice telling him to stay awake, to stay with him. Junkrat tried, he really did. 

But he was so tired. 

So cold.


	16. Wake up call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie wakes up in hospital after his previous adventure

“Jamie?”

Junkrat blinked slowly. 

He wasn't cold anymore. On the contrary. He was feeling very warm and comfortable. Had it just been a really bad, vivid dream? He shifted slightly, feeling something soft slipping over his skin. Blankets. He blinked a few more times, moaning softly. 

“Easy going, Jamie.” Roadhog hushed. “You're in the hospital.”  
“The fuck?” Junkrat mumbled. “Why?”  
“Just try and sit up.” Roadhog said, calm and determined. “Do you remember Volskaya?”  
“You mean the torture basement. Yeah, I remember.” Junkrat grunted. Not a dream after all then. “What of it?” Junkrat tried to sit up and noticed something was wrong. 

“What the-” he saw the flat space of the blankets where his right leg should have been.  
“Roadie-” he gasped, breathing hard. Roadhog was there in a split second, holding Junkrat down as he tried to get away from his own body. He was cussing, spitting the words with anger and he didn't even want to look at himself, burying his head against Roadhog's shoulder. 

Junkrat's hands clawed into Roadhog's hoodie, body shaking. Roadhog was prepared for Junkrat needing to vomit, but that didn't appear to be something that was going to happen.  
“Fuck!” Junkrat growled with anger, voice breaking as he sobbed. Roadhog wished he knew what to say. Seeing Jamie like this, so broken and sad, it was horrible.  
“Who did this to you?” he asked, softly. Junkrat couldn't reply straight away, swallowing and having to catch his breath before he did. 

“I don't even know.” he shook his head in frustration. “I didn't get a good look at his face.”  
“Shit.” Roadhog swore.  
“Sorry.” Junkrat mumbled, shivering in Roadhog's arms.  
“Don't worry. We'll find him.” Roadhog promised. “Did you get anything at all? Something we might recognize him by?”  
“Y-yes.” Junkrat said, softly. “He mentioned Vishkar.”  
“Did he?” Roadhog mumbled. “That's interesting. Something else? An accent maybe?”  
“He sounded Aussie.” Junkrat nodded. “And he'll be missing an ear.”  
“He what?” Roadhog frowned.  
“I bit off his ear.” Junkrat shivered up a grin. Roadhog chuckled. Of course. Even when all the odds were against him, Junkrat fought. 

“I'm proud of you. Just rest now. We'll figure it out.” Roadhog smiled. There'd be time for more complicated questions later.  
“You'll stay, right?” Junkrat asked, hands grasping weakly when Roadhog let go.  
“Yeah.” Roadhog nodded. “Don't worry. I'll be with you.”  
“Okay. That's good.” Junkrat mumbled. “Thank you.”  
“I wasn't quick enough.” Roadhog shook his head. “You shouldn't be thanking me.”  
“What? Roadie-” Junkrat reached for Roadhog's mask and pulled it up, just enough to reveal his mouth. He forced himself up and placed the smallest, most gentle kiss on Roadhog's lips before losing his grip, strenght failing as he was still weak from the blood loss. 

Roadhog caught him before he could go very far, not really realizing what had just happened.  
“You saved my life.” Junkrat said, looking up and smiling warmly. “That's more than enough.”  
Roadhog was quiet, just looking at Jamie while he processed what just happened. Junkrat shifted uneasily at the silence, worried he had offended. 

“Sorry. I should have asked-” he wanted to inch back, but was cut off when Roadhog bent down and kissed him again. Maybe he shouldn't have, Jamie was tired, weak and emotional and was likely not thinking clearly. But Roadhog was just very relieved that Jamie had pulled through. This wasn't over by a long shot, but at least he was alive. He had a fighting chance. And knowing Jamie, he was going to take it.

“You're fine.” Roadhog smiled before pulling the mask down again. “Sleep. I'll watch over you.”  
“Yeah. Yeah, all right.” Junkrat mumbled, apparently having enough blood left to blush. He sank back into his pillows, looking pale and weak, but at least his eyes were lively. It wasn't long before he drifted off again, Roadhog staying and watching quietly. Jamie looked so small and vulnerable. Roadhog wondered how he had even survived on his own for so long. How did he cope when he lost that arm? 

And why were they after him? This wasn't just because they blew up a monument. This was something far more serious, more organized. They'd been on him the minute they landed here in Russia. They cut off his bloody leg to get whatever it was they wanted. They would suffer for it, that Roadhog swore, but he couldn't help but wonder why. Why was Junkrat so important?

And that's when he saw him.

Passing outside the door.

A man with a fresh bandage, blood around the area of the ear. Roadhog surged up and stormed out, charging in and grabbing the man by the shoulder. He raised his fist, ready to completely obliterate the face in front of him. 

But then he realized the person in front of him wasn't the one that tortured Junkrat. He looked downright terrified, his family, two kids and his wife, were shocked, pressed against the wall. One of the kids started to cry. 

“Sorry.” Roadhog mumbled. “I thought you were the one who mutilated my friend. I'm so sorry.” he shook his head and released the man, apologizing again before turning back to enter Junkrat's room. 

He'd just sat down when the door opened again. The other kid of the couple had followed him, crayons and colouring page in hand. She gave them to Roadhog, slightly intimidated but determined.  
“For your friend. So he'll have something to do when he wakes up!” she exclaimed before smiling and running back to her parents. Roadhog smiled, thumbing the crayons. He had a feeling he might just need them.


	17. Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat's finally discharged from the hospital, but he and Roadhog need to clear some things up before they can really move on.

Today was the last day. Junkrat was in bed, alone, staring at the green wall to his left. He'd learned to draw patterns on it in his mind to keep himself busy. It was lonely, being stuck in a room, the only light from his bed lamp. He knew Roadie couldn't be here 24/7, that he needed space and time to sleep, but damn did he miss him when he wasn't here. He'd sworn never to be dependant on anyone else again, and yet here he was. Thankfully his trust seemed to be well placed. 

He heard himself mumble, not really coherently, just some random words he sang with boredom. His right hand flexed, a sigh drew out over his lips. 3 am. He wasn't tired. He wanted to get out of here. He couldn't wait to be able to get out of here. His new prosthetic worked perfectly, though he hated the way it looked. Too clean, too modern, too sleek. Not like him. He'd fix that once he was out. 

It had been two full months before Junkrat was finally fit enough to be discharged from the hospital. Two months of fighting, being held down while the nurses tried to help him. He didn't want to be helped, didn't want to need the help. 

The whole situation, being stuck in bed and being held down, was far too similar to his experience in the cellar, so they had changed that in order to be able to help him. It was better when Roadhog was there. He'd take Junkrat and put him in his lap, making the whole thing a little more comfortable. Junkrat was grateful for it, for Roadhog in general the past few weeks. He'd been the embodiment of patience, even when Junkrat lost his cool and scolded everyone and everything around him. He'd done a lot of that. He'd said some really awful things.

He felt guilty for it, too. He hated not being in control of the situation, he felt helpless and that made him angry. He lashed out at people who didn't deserve it. He wished he wasn't like that. He would have to remember to thank the nurses in the morning. He'd been more than a handful. 

Ten past 3. Junkrat groaned. He should just close his eyes and doze a little, that way time would go faster. But his thoughts kept on going. Back to Roadhog, every single time. 

Roadhog.

At this point Junkrat was wondering if he'd ever learn the man's real name. 

They hadn't spoken about what happened. Junkrat was glad Roadhog didn't ask, he wasn't exactly in the mood to discuss it with his leg still worrying him. But he knew the question was coming. And Roadhog deserved to know, after everything that happened and all he'd done. 

And then there was the kiss.

The kiss neither of them had acknowledged since then. Junkrat had pretended nothing had happened and so had Roadhog. He should have said something. Asked if it was real or not. It'd been on his mind nearly every day. He didn't know how to handle the feelings it brought forth, heart thumping loudly and his cheeks warming up. He'd never felt like that. But he wanted to feel like it again. To be wrapped in big, strong arms and just kiss him. 

Junkrat sighed, cheeks flaring when he closed his eyes and recalled the feeling. A smile slowly appearing on his face. 

He must have drifted off after that because he woke up when the door opened and Roadhog entered. He seemed to be in a good mood, holding a great big bouquet.   
“Morning.” he greeted Junkrat, voice upbeat.   
“Morning Roadie. You got a date?” Junkrat grinned.   
“It's for the nurses.” Roadhog rolled his eyes. “You ready to get back out there?”  
“I've been ready for weeks!” Junkrat smirked eagerly.

There was a bit of paperwork still to be done but after waiting impatiently, Junkrat finally took his first steps outside the hospital into the free air. 

He was still a bit wobbly, but he could walk. Roadhog was next to him to grab onto in case he lost his balance, something which still happened every now and again. They got Junkrat an extra large milk tea with Boba from the new hotel's bar before they went to their room, where Roadhog had been staying for the last two months. 

Junkrat was eager to get going, but Roadhog sat him down first. There were things that needed to be discussed. 

“I know what you're gonna ask.” Junkrat sighed. “Why were they after you? What were they doing here? How did they know you were gonna be here? Close?”  
“All of that.” Roadhog nodded. “Start at the beginning.”  
“They're after me because they think I found something valuable in the omnium.” Junkrat said, uncertain what reaction it would cause. When nothing happened, he continued.  
“I don't know how they found out we were going here. They're probably tracking me. Anyways the valuable thing I found is this.” Junkrat strapped loose his prosthetic arm, opening a hidden compartment and taking out something that looked like a microchip. It was already small, but it looked positively tiny in Roadhog's hands. 

“What is it?” Roadhog asked, careful not to break it.  
“It's a compartment of the computer used to control the Omnium. It contains data. Highly classified data.” Junkrat mumbled as he took it back from Roadhog and hid it in his prosthetic again.  
“Did you read it?” Roadhog asked.  
“Yes. There's a lot so I didn't read it all, but there's a ton of information about the fall of Overwatch. The kind of classified information secret agents might be after.” Junkrat explained. “Who did what and where all the money went. There's more microchips, hidden all over the world, I intend to puzzle em all back together and then sell em to the highest bidder. That's why I wanted to venture out and do this crime spree. The locations, they're not random. They're locations that were highlighted in the files I found.”  
“Interesting.” Roadhog hummed.   
“I should have told you before. You've proven to be my friend again and again and yet- I guess I just didn't want to get you all mixed up in this, you know? You seem to have enough trouble of your own and I already owe you so much I just-” Junkrat sighed. “I'm sorry, Roadie.”

“I'm glad you told me.” Roadhog smiled. If that was all, he could deal with it. He'd been pursued by bounty hunters before, and this whole puzzle thing was intriguing. “Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere.”  
“Good.” Junkrat returned the smile, obviously relieved.  
“Shouldn't you put that back on?” Roadhog gestured at Junkrat's prosthetic arm.   
“Nah, figure we're chillin' here for a bit. 'Sides, I got this bubble tea to finish!” Junkrat grinned.

“So we're going after the fuck that took your leg, right?” Roadhog asked.   
“I don't know. I don't think I want to really meet him again, you know?” Junkrat said, a little more insecure now. Roadhog sat a little closer, bending over to shelter him for a bit.   
“I understand if you're scared, but if he's after you he'll keep coming back, especially since you took his ear. He'll want revenge.”   
“He already got it.” Junkrat mumbled. “He took my independence.”  
“Jamie-”  
“He did, don't say he didn't. He did. I can't even walk without needing something to hold on to. What about showering? I wanted to learn how to drive, but that's not happening, is it? He took my freedom! And if that's not enough for him, then- I don't know!” Junkrat growled, upset. “I'm bloody 21 but I might as well be 80. Need help with every single basic thing.”

They'd talked about this a few times already but Junkrat was obviously still having a hard time accepting it and Roadhog couldn't blame him. He wanted nothing more than to find that one eared fuck and make him wish he'd never been born for breaking Junkrat's body and nearly his spirit as well. He had thought of several ways he was going to do it, each more painful than the last. He'd make him feel just how much of a mistake he'd made. 

“Roadie?” Junkrat's fingers came to lean on Roadhog's, once again pointing out their hugely contrasting size. Roadhog hummed shortly, thumb locking Junkrat's fingers in place gently.  
“There's something else I've been meaning to talk to you about.” Junkrat smiled, a little anxious. Roadhog needed a second to think, then understood. 

“You mean our kiss.”  
“Yes.” Junkrat giggled softly at just hearing the words. Shy, sweet.  
“What of it?” Roadhog asked.   
“Well, nothing I guess.” Junkrat muttered, embarassed. “I just- well, you know.”

Junkrat's face was beet red, his left hand ruffling his own hair nervously. Flustered, adorable. It was obvious he wanted something more, felt more than friendship for Roadhog. Roadhog just sitting there and unable to really believe it. He didn't feel like he deserved to be loved by Jamie. Especially not after what he'd done. His past with the ALF. 

He just couldn't do it.

He realized it when he looked at Junkrat's blushing face. He did love him. But it wouldn't be right. Junkrat didn't know enough about him. He deserved to know everything and Roadhog couldn't tell him. Not yet. 

“I'm sorry. I can't.” 

The dissapointment on Junkrat's face when Roadhog said the words felt like a stab through the heart, but it was better this way. Roadhog let out a deep sigh.   
“I do care about you, a lot. You're my closest friend. I'll be at your side no matter what.” he hoped that would offer some comfort as he hugged Jamie's thin frame. Junkrat smiled feintly.  
“Thanks, mate.” he mumbled. “We good to cuddle though?”  
“Yes.” Roadhog nodded.  
“Good.” Junkrat snugged up happily to Roadhog, who chuckled softly. He should have told him. He should have just said. But then Junkrat wouldn't be here anymore. He'd be alone, hating Roadhog back in Australia, still getting by on every scrap he could feed on. Living, but not feeling, as he'd explained it to Zenyatta.

Roadhog was distracted and Junkrat sensed it, looking up and cocking his head curiously. Roadhog just shook his head quietly. But Junkrat wasn't about to let that deter him. He sat himself into Roadhog's lap and laid his left hand on Roadhog's cheek.  
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, looking worried.   
“Fine. Just thinking.” Roadhog mumbled, he sank back onto the bed, taking Junkrat with him.  
“What about?” Junkrat asked, head flopping onto Roadhog's shoulder.   
“Things.”

Junkrat chuckled quietly.   
“Wonder if you'll ever change.” he mumbled, with a fond smile.   
“Too late for that.” Roadhog chuckled.  
“Wouldn't want ya to.” Junkrat said, kicking off his prosthetic leg, something which he'd become very good at in the past two months. It was very easy to remove if you knew the right movement. 

“Really?” Roadhog asked, surprised. Junkrat nestled himself comfortably against Roadhog's side, nodding. It was odd, seeing him without both prosthetics, but Roadhog recognized it as a gesture of trust. Junkrat wasn't afraid to show him that he was vulnerable, trusted him to be there when he needed to get them back on. He was right.

“You wouldn't be good ol' Roadie anymore if ya did.” 

“Mako.”

“What?” Junkrat frowned.

“My real name is Mako.” Roadhog clarified. “You can use it, if you want.”

“Mako.” Junkrat let the word roll of his tongue, giggling a little.   
“What's funny?” Roadhog grunted.   
“Nothing! It's just unusual, is all. Never heard a name like that before.” Junkrat said, quickly. “I like it. Suits ya.”  
“Of course it does. It's my name. Silly rat.” Roadhog chuckled and ruffled Junkrat's hair, causing a giggling fit on Junkrat's part.   
“Sorry, sorry!” Junkrat aplogized, laughing softly. “Thanks, though. For trusting me with that.”   
“That's all right.” Roadhog mumbled. He knew it was only just becoming the afternoon, but he felt like taking a nap. This was nice, cosy and warm. Thankfully, Junkrat seemed to feel the same way.  
He must have not had much sleep in the hospital, and needed to catch up now.   
“Mhhh, mind if we sleep?” Junkrat mumbled.  
“Nah. Watch your tea.” Roadhog replied, taking Junkrat's bubble tea and putting it on the nightstand so it wouldn't fall. Junkrat let him, settling in for a good snooze.

“Oh, Roadie?”  
“Yeah?”  
“I'm sorry for bringing that kiss up. It's okay though, I understand. Still love ya.” Junkrat smiled with the most adorable blush, softly drifting off with Roadhog watching him. Roadhog merely shook his head, nose of the mask leaning against Junkrat's forehead as he did the same.


	18. It's you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roadhog has a nasty nightmare and Jamie finally remembers something.

Fire. 

There was so much fire. It burned his skin, charred his hair.

Screams, gunshots, automatic rifles, bullets flying, blood under his bare feet, mixing with sand.

The sea. 

It was red.

It was too dark to see, but there were shapes of bodies on the waves. 

Metal clanging coming closer, footsteps, but not quite. 

A sense of hurry, he had to find, he had to protect. 

Explosions.

More screaming. More gunfire. Everyone was dying.

He was nearly there, running as fast as he could. 

Where were they? Frantic, fear as his heartbeat quickened. 

Then he saw them. 

Bleeding. Dying. 

“No!” 

Roadhog sprung to life with a fearful cry, breathing fast and eyes teary. 

A nightmare. He groaned and brought his hands to his face to rub it, forgetting for a moment he was still wearing his mask. 

“Roadie?” Junkrat asked, woken up by the sudden call. He sleepily rubbed his eyes, frowning at his partner in crime. He seemed to get more worried by the second when Roadhog didn't answer, too busy to try and control his very heavy, fast breathing. Junkrat sprung into action, reaching over him and grabbing a gas canister, popping the lid and inserting it into the mask's specifically designed inhalers. Roadhog breathed deep, the restorative gas making him feel better. 

Junkrat didn't speak, waiting for Roadhog to collect himself. He did offer another gas canister but Roadhog shook his head. He hoped his sobs weren't too apparent in between the rough breaths. Jamie had enough to deal with. He didn't need this, too. 

Junkrat reached up, fingers loosening the straps on Roadhog's mask and taking it off carefully. He expected to be told off, but nothing happened so he laid down the mask on the nightstand, gently guiding Roadhog's head to his shoulder and allowing him to rest there, left hand softly loosening the ponytail and combing through his hair. Roadhog couldn't even bring up the breath to say thank you. Junkrat was patient, far more patient than Roadhog had ever seen him, quietly hushing him and just being there. It was enough. Roadhog felt himself calm the longer Junkrat's hand went through and over his hair, his breathing stabilized, Junkrat wiping his tears as good as he could with his stump, the clumsiness making Roadhog chuckle. 

“Sorry, my arm's still-”  
“-It's fine.” Roadhog smiled, finally able to. “Thank you.”  
“Bad dreams, huh?” Junkrat mumbled.  
“Yeah.” Roadhog nodded.   
“Need a drink?” Junkrat asked.  
“I'm good.” Roadhog replied.  
“Need anything at all?” Junkrat asked, slightly nervous. He'd probably never done much comforting. It was sweet to see him worry so much.  
“No. Just this.” Roadhog assured him, smiling when Junkrat rested his chin on his head.   
“Okay.” Junkrat said. “I can do that.”

Roadhog smiled and buried himself against Jamie, the smaller man nearly dissapearing in his arms.   
Roadhog noted the size of his fingers when they locked around Jamie's waist, hands big enough to cover Jamie's torso.   
“Aren't you scared of me?” Roadhog asked, gently thumbing over Jamie's skin.   
“I ain't scared of no one.” Jamie grinned. “Why?”  
“You're so fragile.”  
“Says the one who's having a mental breakdown in my arms.” Junkrat frowned.   
“Touché.” Roadhog chuckled.   
“Roadie you know I don't speak French.” Junkrat smiled, fingers still in Roadhog's hair. “But no, I'm not scared of you. I figure if you wanted to harm me you'd have done it by now. Sure had plenty of chances to.”  
“I would never.” Roadhog mumbled.   
“I know, mate. I know.” Junkrat assured him. “That's why I trust ya.”

Roadhog must have dropped off after that because when he woke up Jamie wasn't holding him anymore. He opened his eyes slowly, feeling a familiar form warm on his belly. Jamie stretched lazily, smiling at him when he looked his way.  
“Mornin'.” he yawned.  
“Morning.” Roadhog muttered, sitting up slightly, Jamie rolling off his stomach with an indignant groan. 

“What time is it?” Roadhog looked around for anything with an indication of time, but found none.   
“Too early.” Jamie said, curling back up in the blankets.   
“Come on, lazy rat.” Roadhog smiled, getting up.   
“Gimme my other arm, will ya?” Junkrat asked, gesturing at the arm that was on the floor a few feet away. Roadhog bent over and took it, passing it to Jamie.   
“Oh, and my leg, while you're down there.” Jamie grinned, face red for whatever reason. Roadhog rolled his eyes and bent over again, Jamie giggling. Roadhog grinned when he caught on. That sneaky bastard.

“Are you ogling me?” Roadhog grunted, pretending to be offended, tossing Jamie his leg.   
“Maybe.” Jamie smirked. “Not often I get to see you like this, ya know! Gotta take my chances!”  
“Sure.” Roadhog mumbled, secretly flattered. When was the last time someone looked at him like that? Over twenty years ago, if not more.

“So where do we go from here?” Roadhog asked, changing the subject.  
“I don't know about you, but I want to get as far away from here as possible.” Jamie mumbled, tightening his prosthetics.   
“Yeah, seen enough cold and snow.” Roadhog agreed.   
“So I was thinking America.” Junkrat mused. “Route 66 apparently has an old diner with some kind of locked up warehouse nearby. Been abandoned for a few years now. Supposedly a lot of information and weapons stored in there.”  
“More information about Overwatch?” Roadhog asked.   
“Who knows? All I know is that information sells well and we've definitely not made enough money the past few months.” Junkrat complained.

“Agreed. All right, let's make for America.” Roadhog nodded. He wanted to reach for his mask, but was stopped by Jamie, who hastily jumped off the bed.  
“Lemme just admire ya face before you hide it behind that thing again, all right? Didn't even get a good look at it last time.” he reached up to Roadhog's face, but his hands were pushed away.   
“How so?” Roadhog frowned.   
“Back in Japan the sun was in my eyes. Hardly saw anything. Also my eyesight might not be- well, it's not great. And last night, in the dark, you know?” Junkrat shrugged. “Please, Roadie?”  
“Fine.” Roadhog sighed, giving in to Jamie's big begging eyes. 

Roadhog allowed lanky fingers to pull his face down, Junkrat grinning happily, excited. It was hard to stay cool with someone fussing over your face like that, let alone with as much admiration as Junkrat was expressing.   
“Look at you, your handsome face all red and flustered!” Junkrat giggled adoringly. “It's just lil' old me, Roadie!”  
“You done?” Roadhog muttered, cheeks hot. 

“Nah not yet. Give me a few more seconds.” Junkrat smiled, left hand combing some hair from Roadhog's face before trailing down to the scar on his cheek, index finger gently tracing it. Junkrat seemed contemplative for a moment, his smile dissapearing while his eyes grew larger, pupils shrinking to pin pricks. He made a strange noise, shaking his head. His hands were trembling, fingers going over the scar again, as if he had to make sure it was there. 

“You?!” he finally said, starting to shake. “It was you!”

Roadhog had to think a moment, but then it hit him. Junkrat had finally recognized him. From all those years ago. The scar must have triggered some kind of flashback.   
“Jamie-”  
“Fuck, it's true, isn't it? It really was you!” Junkrat inched back, anger in his voice and fire in his eyes. He shook his head, hand moving frantically through his hair.   
“Jamie, please stay calm.” Roadhog said.   
“Fuck that! You fucking asshole!” Junkrat growled. “You didn't say shit! You said fucking nothing!”  
“I'm sorry for that, but it's not like I didn't have my reasons.” Roadhog stayed calm, however hard it was with Jamie so distressed and angry. 

“You left a five year old to fend for himself in an irradiated wasteland, Roadie.” Junkrat growled, guttural and furious. “What fucking reasons would that be?!”

“When we met, it was only a few months after I'd lost my family.”

Junkrat was quiet, still frowning angrily, but at least he was listening, so Roadhog continued.   
“When I saw you it was- I got scared. I couldn't take you with me. What if I ended up losing you like I lost them? I'm still afraid that will happen. What do you think that nightmare was about?”  
“You dreamt of losing your family?” Junkrat asked, mellowing out slowly. He seemed troubled now, retreating but still trembling. Roadhog nodded.   
“I do, too, sometimes.” Junkrat mumbled. “It's awful. I don't remember much besides burning buildings and just that awful sound of the house coming down, but it must be so much more vivid for you. I can't even imagine.”   
“It's like I'm back there, every single time. I have to relive that failure every time. I couldn't protect them and they died for it. It's my fault.”  
“No! It's the omnics! They invaded our land!” Jamie jumped up aggresively. “Don't you dare blame yourself!” 

“Jamie, I spent the last sixteen years regretting not taking you along. When I met you back in that bar it was like I'd been given a second chance. I saw that lighter and I knew it was you. Had to be.”  
“Why didn't you say something? I spent those same sixteen years looking for you!” Junkrat said, laughing incredulously. He sank to his knees, shrinking after that previous outburst. 

“Why?”  
“I wanted to tell you just how much your words and your lessons meant. It's saved my life more than once. Like, I went through a completely unnecessary amount of trouble to refill that lighter and keep it working all this time. I could have gotten another easily, but I didn't want to. It was my lighter and it reminded me of those lessons. Of that safe feeling I got when you came along.” Junkrat scoffed at his own stupidity. “Fucking stupid.”

“I thought you'd get angry and leave if I told you it was me you met all those years ago.” Roadhog admitted. “I should never have left you there. It's one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made. Please tell me I don't have to lose you over it.” he looked Jamie in the eye, feeling more vulnerable and exposed than ever. He was giving Jamie the ability to hurt him, and it made his heart beat painfully in his chest. Jamie looked lost, eyes searching for something which wasn't there. He breathed loudly, confused and emotional.   
“No.” he mumbled, softly. “No, no, I can't.”  
“Can't what?” Roadhog asked, carefully coming closer and crouching down with him.   
“I can't leave you.” Jamie said, turning his head to look Roadhog in the eye. “I just can't.”

Shaky hands came to rest on Mako's cheeks, Jamie looking at him with a teary smile.   
“I don't know what I'd do without you anymore.” he was so scared saying it, clinging on desperately. “I wouldn't even be alive without you. I mean I swore I'd never let anyone close enough to hurt me, but here we are.” he laughed again, shaking his head.   
“I'm sorry, Jamie.” Roadhog mumbled.   
“I'm sorry too.” Jamie sighed. “Of course you struggle with losing your family. I'm sorry for getting angry. I know how it feels and yet here I am being an asshole about it.”  
“C'mere.” Roadhog smiled, taking Jamie into a very tight hug. “I should have said something. You were right to get angry.”

“I'm not angry anymore.” Jamie muttered, face pressed to Roadhog's shoulder. “Are you?”  
“I was never angry to begin with. I'm glad you know now. I'm glad you're still here. Expected you to storm out and that'd be the end of it.” Roadhog smiled with relief.  
“Never.” Jamie shook his head. “Just- no more secrets like this, right?”  
“No. I promise.” Roadhog said realizing full well he'd have to take the secret about ALF to his grave if this were to be true. He fully intended to keep the promise. 

“Is that why you can't love me back? Do you still miss your family?” Jamie asked, voice considerate.  
“It's a little more complicated than that, Jamie. I do love you, just-” Roadhog had to stop mid sentence when Jamie giggled. “-just give me some time. I never expected to meet someone again. You caught me off guard.”  
“Don't worry. I'll wait.” Jamie grinned, cheeks beet red, legs wiggling with excitement. He chewed his lip, reaching for Roadhog's face with the obvious intent to kiss him, but changed his mind.  
“Right, wait. I said I'd wait.” he muttered. Roadhog chuckled, shaking his head before he dove in, peppering Jamie's face with kisses, causing an adoring laughing fit on Jamie's part. 

He left not a part of Jamie's face untouched, finishing his assault with a sweet kiss to Jamie's lips.   
Jamie smiled when they broke away, blushing and giggling.   
“Come on. We've got treasure to find.” Roadhog nudged him with a playful smile, getting to his feet and Jamie doing the same. 

“Pretty sure I already found mine, mate.”


	19. One Eared Fuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final confrontation! (But things do continue in Hooked on a Feeling!)

Route 66 reminded them an awful lot of Australia. It was a dry, deserted place, the diner they'd been looking for covered with the dust of many a sandstorm. The road that went past it was cracked, littered with broken concrete, the paint on the front of the building falling off and faded. 

They settled in the diner for the night, drinking coffee out of the outdated machines and helping themselves to the way past due date goods that were in the vending machines. It was all packed and sugary, it wouldn't spoil. 

Roadhog had an uneasy feeling about this place. Like they were being watched. He was up all night, keeping a watchful eye. Nothing happened, though. Not even a sound to stir Jamie from his sleep. Roadhog watched his little rat sleep with a smile. He was so much more relaxed now and had a solid sleeping schedule, unlike when they'd first met. Actually, Jamie had changed a whole damned lot in the relatively short time they'd known eachother. Must have been coming up to six months in total. But maybe Jamie changed him, as well. Roadhog could have sworn he never wanted anything to do with love, with any affairs of the heart anymore. But Jamie had entered his life and waltzed straight into his heart without much trouble. 

He thought Mako no longer existed. That it was just Roadhog. Or 'Roadie' as he'd taken to calling himself sometimes as well. Another one of Jamie's influences. Whenever Jamie called him that, it made him feel more like a person than an image of something he tried to be. Like he mattered. 

He looked up from his thoughts when he felt a hand lace with his own, quietly smiling when Jamie woke up slowly, skin warm with sleep.   
“Hey.” Jamie smiled, voice raw. “You been up long?”  
“All night. Gotta keep an eye on you, don't I.” Roadhog shrugged. “Sleep well?”  
“Yeah. Let's have some food and go looking for that warehouse.” Jamie got up and stretched thoroughly, shuffling into the kitchen. Roadhog nodded, getting up and walking to the door, checking the weather. Dry, hot, sunny. 

He noticed a bit of paper in the mailbox, fluttering in the wind. He quickly popped out to check it, not remembering it being there when they got here. 

'Bring us the treasure and we'll let you live. Come to warehouse at 3 am. V.' 

Roadhog thumbed the paper, looking around but seeing no sign of anyone around. He eventually crumbled the paper, tossing it aside and heading back inside. He knew what he had to do. 

The warehouse was easy to find and possibly even easier to break into, the thick metal doors easily unwrenched by Jamie's explosives. It seemed to be abandoned inside, the two entering carefully. 

The warehouse was filled with old metal containers, the living quarters of the crew still had years old papers and dirty coffee mugs on the table, like they had just upped and left all of a sudden. The light wasn't working everywhere, some were flickering and others were just plain broken, casting darkness in the warehouse apart from the few lights that were still working .It was hard getting an overview of just how big this place was, the space too cluttered with crap. And Old crane stood decrepit over a container it was supposed to be lifting, but given the cable work, it probably wouldn't be able to right now. 

“Roadie, it's too quiet for my tastes.” Jamie mumbled, staying very close to Roadhog. “It's like one of those horror games in the arcade. What was it called? Silent something. There'll be zombies on us any second now.” Jamie chuckled, trying to seem confident but his tone betraying his nervousness. 

They proceeded further into the warehouse, entering an open space between the containers, seemingly cleared recently, dragging tracks in the dust.   
“Stay close.” Roadhog mumbled, going ahead, feeling how Jamie hooked his hand to his elbow and did exactly that. 

Roadhog was barely surprised when large floodlights switched on with a loud clang, blinding the both of them and Jamie jumping back to hide behind Roadhog. A figure was illuminated from the back, a man dressed in an oddly cut white suit, wearing a strange kind of glasses, attached to only one side of his head. 

“Well, well! Look who it is!” 

Roadhog felt Jamie shiver at the sound of the man's voice.   
“It's him, Roadie.” a frightened whisper. Roadhog reached for his hook, ready to pull the guy down and make him feel just how angry he was at him.   
“Now, now. Let's not be hasty.” the man smirked. “You came here for a reason, correct?”  
“You work for Vishkar?” Roadhog grunted, aggressively.  
“Yes. I am Vishkar. We all are.” the man grinned and several laser dots appeared, all pointing at both Junkers. Jamie came out of hiding, slow, careful. 

“But I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Victor. And yes, I work for Vishkar. We fight for a new, more advanced world. Not that people such as yourselves would understand.” Victor frowned with disdain. Jamie narrowed his eyes, anger flaring in them.   
“How's the one eared life treating ya, cockhead?” he mocked, grinning.   
“Young mister Fawkes such a small injury is mere child's play for our technicians. You should consider joining. We'd be able to help you get much more advanced prosthetics.” Victor smiled, unmoved by the insult. 

“Better dead than Vishkar.” Jamie hissed.   
“As you will. There's no need for you to die today, however. We're just after something very particular.” Victor shrugged.

“Let me guess. My treasure.” Jamie rolled his eyes. “You won't get nothing outta me. You took my leg and I didn't break. What makes you think I will now?” he scoffed.   
“Because we know a little something about your dear best friend. Something that would surely upset you.” Victor smiled, words dripping with honey and schadenfreude. “Isn't that right, Mako?”  
“W-wait, what?” Jamie chuckled, looking at Roadhog. “No, nothing you can tell me about him is new to me. He swore he had no more secrets. Right Roadie?”

Roadhog silently eyed Jamie, not answering the question. Jamie stepped back, careful and confused.   
“What's going on?” he asked, fearful of the answer.  
“Your precious bodyguard has a bit of a past. I'm sure you're aware of most of it, but did he tell you he used to be part of the Liberation front?”

Jamie looked at Roadhog, hopeful. Waiting for a sign that this wasn't true. It couldn't be true.   
“He's lying, right?” he asked, voice shaky. “You didn't kill my parents, right? You didn't condone the idea of killing so many people. You wouldn't. Please tell me he's lying, Roadie.” 

Roadhog finally sighed, shaking his head.  
“He's not lying. I was a member of the Australian Liberation Front when they destroyed what is now Junkertown.” Roadhog confessed, seeing Jamie's uncertainty evolve into fury in a matter of seconds. 

“You lied! You fucking fuck! You lied about everything!” Jamie snarled, hardly able to believe it. “You lied and you lied again even after you swore you- I can't believe I trusted you!” he spat, anger in his eyes. “I believed you! Fuck!” Jamie growled, nearly lunging at Roadhog, but controlling himself. “I never should have let you close to me! You were right, I can't trust anyone!”

Jamie's mood shifted suddenly, eyes going soft and slightly teary before he spoke again, a sad mumble.  
“I thought what we had was something real, Roadie. I really thought you cared about me. Turns out you're only after my treasure, just like everyone else.” Jamie bitterly spat on the floor, Roadhog paralyzed. He couldn't speak, heart beating loudly in his chest. 

Jamie just scoffed, not even looking at Roadhog and instead turning his head to Victor.   
“You can have my treasure. I don't fucking want this shit anymore. It's not worth all this trouble.” he loosened his prosthetic and took out the microchip, securing his arm again before he contemplated the chip one more time, casting a last glance at Roadhog with hurt in his eyes before he steeled himself. 

He finally threw it, Victor catching it with a delighted smile. 

“You've made a good decision today, Mister Fawkes. Now-” When Victor looked back to the two friends however, he found them gone, running like their life depended on it. He frowned with question before he understood, but it was already too late. He glanced at the microchip, seeing it flicker with a red light. 

The explosion shook the warehouse and made the concrete rattle with dust. There were some shots in their direction, but the two split up and went into separate corridors before anyone could land a hit. Roadhog grinned with the anticipation of mayhem, hearing Jamie's gleeful laugh before explosions started going off one by one, the walls of the building trembling. 

It was havoc. Explosion, grenades, hook flying and scrap being fired into bodies and faces. The screams were blotted out by the sound of Jamie's grenades and giggling, shrapnel flying around as they mowed through the Vishkar operatives, neither of them getting much trouble. They met back in the middle, Roadhog's hook taking care of the last, already fleeing Vishkar agent. 

Jamie was partially covered in blood, but it was obvious it wasn't his, face grinning and eyes shimmering with adrenaline.   
“I can't believe that worked!” he giggled, practically jumping up and down.   
“One of your better ideas.” Roadhog admitted. “I'd ask how you made a bomb look like a microchip but frankly I don't care. You got your revenge. Feel good?”  
“Real good.” Jamie nodded enthusiastically. “One eared fuck got what he deserved.”  
“That he did.” Roadhog nodded, seeing Jamie look around, slightly twitchy from the rush of battle.   
“Jamie.” 

Jamie snapped his head to look at Roadhog, who took off his mask and smiled at him, Jamie jumping into his arms and full on kissing him without any sort of hesitation. He was too excited to stay like that for long, grinning against Roadhog's lips and wiggling in his arms until he was put down to the floor again. 

“Well, now we can explore without any interruptions! Still got to find that information that was supposed to be here, assuming those Vishkar twats didn't take it already.” Jamie said, looking around for where to start. “What do you think, Roadie?”

Roadhog pointed at a large, slightly elavated platform in the middle of the warehouse. Upon closer inspection, it looked kind of like an elevator, the lever closeby. They descended down into a cellar, Jamie shivering slightly despite himself, wondering if he'd ever feel the same going into a cellar again. Roadhog's big hand on his shoulders helped, though. It comforted him, warm and comfortable. 

"Hey, Jamie?" Roadhog asked, something still bothering him a little.  
"Yeah Roadie?" Jamie looked up, face illuminated by the lights in the elevator's tunnel.   
"I'm sorry I only told you about ALF last night. I didn't want you to think-"  
"It's all right mate. I get it. You're not proud of what you did in the past. Weren't you that set off that bomb, was it?" Jamie shrugged.  
"No. I didn't even know they were going to do it." Roadhog confirmed.  
"So it makes no sense for me to get mad at you for it." Jamie smiled. "I know I can trust you, no matter what." he looked at Roadhog with a tender smile, Roadhog returning it and ruffling his hand through Jamie's hair. He was still here. After everything they'd gone through, they were still together and Roadhog swore then and there that nothing would ever tear them apart. He wouldn't allow it.  
"That was some pretty solid acting though. You should consider a career in it, if this doesn't work out." Roadhog chuckled, Jamie laughing and filling the liftshaft with it's wonderfully unique sound.

The room they entered was cold and concrete and steel, a seemingly new computer in the middle, a holographic screen displaying information. There were signs of people here, so Vishkar must have found this before they had. Jamie got out the real chip from his prosthetic and plugged it into the computer, quickly figuring out how it worked, resourceful as always. 

The information compiled perfectly, adding to that what they already had, pictures popping up over a map of the world. Faces they'd never seen, but one word kept popping up.  
“Overwatch.” Jamie mumbled. “I thought they'd disbanded.”  
“They have. Or, well, officially, at least.” Roadhog nodded. “But seeing this, I reckon it won't be long before they resurface.”   
“I reckon you're right.” Jamie nodded. “I also think that when they do, we should be there.”  
“You mean join them?” Roadhog asked.  
“Yeah. I think it's our ticket to finding out what this is all about.” Jamie nodded.   
“You might be right.” Roadhog nodded. “Put the info on our chip and let's be off before more Vishkar show up, though.”  
“Our chip? You're commited to this, aren't you?” Jamie smirked.   
“No. To you.” Roadhog said, completely honest. Jamie blushed, giggling softly as he did what Roadhog had suggested, the two of them getting out after destroying the computer so no one else could access it.

They stepped into the dry, hot winds and for a moment it was like they were back in Australia, Roadhog glancing down at Jamie with a smile.  
“Might be a while before Overwatch decides to show up. What do we do in the mean time?” he asked, seeing a grin spreading over Jamie's face.

“Let's have some fun!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed, I sure have and I love each and every single one of you who tagged along for the ride! Thank you and be sure to check out the sequel (hooked on a feeling), too!


End file.
